


Soft (But Only for Her)

by Kayleen756894



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Dangan Ronpa 3: The End of 希望ヶ峰学園 | The End of Kibougamine Gakuen | End of Hope's Peak High School, Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: Advice, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Gods & Goddesses, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Alternate Universe - Zombie Apocalypse, Angst, Bad Advice, Bathing/Washing, Birthday, Birthday Fluff, Bubble Bath, Coffee Shops, Dancing, Dark, Drabble Collection, Drinking, Empath, Empathy, Established Relationship, F/F, Ficlet Collection, Flirting, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Gaming, Grief/Mourning, Hallucinations, Healing, Homelessness, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Sexual Content, Insecurity, Lazy Mornings, Love Confessions, Magic, Massage, Mild Sexual Content, Morning Cuddles, Morning Kisses, Murder, Near Death Experiences, Nightmares, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Partying, Past Relationship(s), Pickpockets, References to Drugs, School Dances, Slow Dancing, Soft!Junko, Strippers & Strip Clubs, Survivor Guilt, Underage Drinking, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Unreliable Narrator, Vampire Bites, Vampires, all of these fics are non-abusive junkan, only soft Junko x Mikan here
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-15
Updated: 2021-02-03
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:27:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 23
Words: 34,716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24743053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kayleen756894/pseuds/Kayleen756894
Summary: A collection of short, unconnected, non-abusive Junko x Mikan fics. A summary and list of potential triggers will be given on each chapter. Rating may change and tags will be added as I add more drabbles to this collection. Will try to update once a week if possible.Chapter 1: Junko letting her hair down probably wouldn’t be a life-changing experience for anyone else but it stopped Mikan dead in her tracks.
Relationships: Enoshima Junko/Tsumiki Mikan
Comments: 85
Kudos: 291





	1. Let Your Hair Down

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I decided to start this little ficlit collection so I could practice my writing and work on small, simple stories when I don't have the energy or motivation to work on something longer and more complex. All of these works will be around 1000 words or so.
> 
> Every one of these fics will be non-abusive Junko x Mikan cause that's how I roll. I live for Soft!Junko. That doesn't necessarily mean Junko won't be evil or an asshole in these stories, but she will always greatly care for Mikan. If any of you have read my other Junkan fic "Smile," the dynamic between Junko and Mikan in these fics will be very similar.

Junko letting her hair down probably wouldn’t be a life-changing experience for anyone else but it stopped Mikan dead in her tracks.

Junko had this image of herself she displayed to the world; a design—a persona—she crafted specifically for the viewership of the masses. Every detail of herself was precisely tailored to how she wanted the world to see her. Beautiful, powerful, confident, unapproachable, unmatchable.

And her pigtails were a central part of this look. When people thought of Junko, Mikan included, her thick blonde pigtails were the first attribute to spring to mind.

It was the only way anyone had ever seen her. It was the only way Mikan had ever known her.

So Junko tossing aside her monochrome bear-shaped hair clips and allowing her bountiful blonde hair to bounce free and waterfall down her back was like seeing your faceless dancing partner at a masquerade finally remove their mask.

She was still the same but suddenly looked so different. Junko’s hair was even longer than Mikan’s, reaching past her thighs. She looked so beautiful with her hair down—like a goddess.

Mikan didn’t realize she was slack-jawed and staring until Junko called her out on it.

“What?”

Mikan flinched and shook her head, trying to gather her thoughts. “I-I’ve never seen you with your hair down before.”

Junko shrugged, picking up a brush from her vanity and smoothing out the tangles in her mane. “It’s easier to deal with in pigtails. Plus it makes me look cute!” Then she pouted. “Hurts my head after awhile, though.”

“I just... n-no one else at school has seen you like this, h-have they?” Mikan felt her cheeks heat up and she wrung her hands together. “I-I’m just honoured that you would show me.”

Maybe to Junko this wasn’t a big deal. Maybe she just had a headache and felt like letting her hair down. Maybe this was something she always did the second she got back to her dorm away from the public eye and having Mikan there wasn’t even noteworthy to her.

But to Mikan this meant everything.

Junko kept most of her thoughts and feelings hidden but to Mikan this felt like Junko was letting her in on a secret she hadn’t shared with anyone else. It felt like Junko was giving Mikan a part of herself, a part no one else had ever seen, even if it wasn’t something she was willing to talk about.

It felt like Junko finally trusted her enough to remove a part of her mask.

“Hah! Those nerds don’t deserve to look at me at all,” Junko boasted. Mikan wasn’t surprised to hear her say that. She knew Junko didn’t care about any of their classmates and that she saw herself as better than them; as better than everyone.

But if that were the case, why did Junko show her—

“I want you to look at me, though.”

Junko stepped closer, each tap of her heels echoing the hastening pattern of Mikan’s heartbeat. “You’re my girlfriend, Mikan. There’s lots of things I only want you to see.”

She leaned forward until their foreheads touched and Mikan forgot how to breathe as those ice blue eyes consumed her vision.

“So? What do you prefer?” Junko murmured, her breath warm against Mikan’s trembling lips. “Hair up or down?”

Mikan gulped. “Y-you always look b-beautiful to me, Junko.”

Junko stared at her for a moment before she pulled back and guffawed, playfully slapping Mikan’s arm. “Oh Mikan, you’re such a charmer!” Junko ruffled up Mikan’s hair, grinning ear to ear as Mikan whined and fruitlessly tried to swat Junko’s hand away. Then Junko’s face lit up like a match suddenly sparked in her brain. “Oh wait, I gotta try something.”

Junko unhurriedly gathered up Mikan’s uneven hair in one large bunch at a time, securing them with her bear hair clips she had tossed aside earlier. Then she dragged Mikan over to her vanity mirror and—

Oh.

“Ahhh, Mikan!” Junko gushed, cheerfully rubbing her cheek on Mikan’s shoulder. “You look so cute with my hair!”

Sure enough, Mikan couldn’t look away from her reflection now that her hair resembled Junko’s signature hairstyle. Her hair wasn’t nearly as thick as Junko’s so it didn’t manage the same fluffy consistency, but there was still something heartwarming about how this hairstyle looked on her anyway.

Mikan never really bothered doing anything special with her hair before—why bother when she knew how disgusting and ugly she was—but Junko always knew how to make her feel pretty, even if only for a moment.

Letting her hair down, personally styling Mikan’s hair to look like her own—Junko was sharing a lot of herself today. She probably didn’t realize how much she was sharing, and she probably didn’t realize how much it meant to Mikan.

Mikan didn’t know how to properly express her thanks yet. She still didn’t know how to talk to Junko without blushing and stumbling over her words. But one day she would gain that confidence, that willpower, and until then she would savour every new secret Junko was willing to express.

“Why don’t we switch outfits, too?” Junko’s smile turned sly as she wrapped her arms around Mikan from behind, long red nails tracing the edges of Mikan’s shirt. She leered at Mikan through the mirror as she pressed her breasts flush against Mikan’s back. Her lips brushed against Mikan’s ear and a shiver shot right up Mikan’s spine. “Yours might be a little tight on me but I bet we’d _both_ like that.”

Mikan’s cheeks burned and she buried her face in her hands but found she couldn’t stop herself from smiling, especially when Junko started giggling. This was a part of Junko that only she ever got to see. No one else got to feel Junko’s warmth like this. No one else got to hear Junko laugh so genuinely.

Fighting through her embarrassment, focusing on her love and admiration for her girlfriend instead, Mikan turned in Junko’s hold so she could run her fingers through Junko’s hair—stunningly beautiful no matter the style.

“I’d be honoured.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! If you're interested in reading more short stories like this please let me know!


	2. Nightmares

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mikan was often plagued by nightmares. It was hard, it was pathetic, it was painful, but she managed. What Mikan didn’t know how to manage was Junko having a nightmare instead.

Mikan was often plagued by nightmares.

She had been bullied since she was a child. By her parents, classmates, nearly everyone she knew. They beat her, touched her, called her horrific names that she had almost come to like—because if they were saying those names that meant they acknowledged her existence.

Her mind had been twisted around so severely that she actually craved the negative attention—even though she feared the consequences just as much.

She had gotten used to waking up crying by now, with images of her bullies’ taunting snarls burned behind her eyelids. If she woke up in her own dorm she would cry herself back to sleep, and if she woke up in Junko’s then Junko would hold her until she stopped shaking. It was hard, it was pathetic, it was painful, but she managed.

What Mikan _didn’t_ know how to manage was Junko having a nightmare instead.

It was after Mikan had already woken up from one, a less brutal one than usual so her heart palpitations had calmed rather quickly, and noticed that she hadn’t awoken Junko this time. Junko was groaning under her breath in her sleep and a thin layer of sweat had built on her twisted expression.

Mikan wasn’t sure if her immediate concern or confusion was more prominent. Junko never seemed scared or guilty of anything. Mikan had seen Junko walk into traffic just to see if a driver would have the balls to hit her. Mikan had seen Junko spread blasphemous rumours about other students just to shatter friendships and make fights break out in the halls. Mikan had seen Junko try to kill her own sister five times this past week. Mikan had seen Junko mouth off against people twice her build and left the other person afraid of her in the end.

Junko never got scared. Junko never really cared about anything. What could she possibly have nightmares about?

When Junko finally jerked awake she bolted up, limbs flailing, and Mikan just barely avoided getting clawed across the face.

“J-Junko?” Mikan asked quietly. “Are you okay?”

She never got a response. Junko just stared at her with wide eyes for an uncomfortably long time without blinking.

“Junko?” Mikan repeated as an uneasy stone sunk in her gut.

There was something very scared in Junko’s gaze, like a frightened animal; like someone who didn’t know who or where they were. Like someone who had just lost everything before realizing they had anything to lose in the first place.

Eventually, Mikan sat up too. “W-would you like to talk about it?”

Junko didn’t move, didn’t speak; just kept staring through her.

Unsure of what else to do, Mikan extended her arms and snuggled Junko’s head against her chest, holding her tightly.

Only then did Junko speak up, her words muffled against Mikan’s nightshirt. “What are you doing?”

Mikan flushed, immediately feeling self-conscious. “W-well, I just thought... I-I mean, this is what you do for me when I have bad dreams...”

Her nervousness actually got a quiet laugh out of Junko and the little sound was both delightful and lonely, like wind chimes on a starless night, but it wasn’t enough to settle Mikan’s anxieties.

“S-should I stop?” Mikan asked, already loosening her hold.

Junko grunted, burying her face deeper into Mikan’s breasts. “Comfy.”

Mikan’s cheeks burned bright red, even more so when she realized Junko could hear every slam of her thundering heart against her ribs.

“Let’s, um,” Mikan bit her lip, struggling to remember how to speak, “l-let’s lie down then.”

Once they were on their sides Junko was quick to wrap her limbs around Mikan until no space remained between them, tucking her head under Mikan’s chin. It was definitely not a position Mikan was used to but she’d be lying if she said she didn’t enjoy being the caregiver in the relationship for once—even when it still seemed like Junko held the reigns while she was hurting.

Being a nurse, Mikan always thought her bedside manner was pretty good, but Junko made her so nervous—and she really wasn’t used to seeing Junko in a vulnerable state, especially since she was staying calmer than Mikan was while in said vulnerable state. Mikan wasn’t sure how to behave. She tried to re-enact the composed and nurturing way Junko always treated her when she was scared and upset but Mikan already knew she was failing terribly at that.

Junko groaned, more a noise of acknowledgement rather than annoyance, softly thumping her forehead against Mikan’s chest. “Your heart’s beating way too fast for me to sleep.”

Mikan trembled. “S-sorry,” she said, but having that so bluntly stated only made her heartbeat rapidly accelerate.

Junko’s hair tickled her neck as she shook her head. “No, don’t be sorry. Never be sorry for your heartbeat.” Junko paused for a moment, pressing her face more into Mikan’s chest. “Never be sorry for that...”

Huh. Junko sounded oddly wistful just then. It was as if she...

Ah. So that’s what Junko had a nightmare about. That’s what she was afraid of. Mikan never saw that coming. Her self-worth was so small and fragile she never even dreamed that Junko would be afraid to lose her. But it was the only solution that added up, and one that Mikan never would have believed before tonight.

Junko would never admit it. Mikan didn’t expect her to. And Mikan definitely didn’t know how to ask about it.

But she could hold Junko all night if she wanted. That was something she was capable of and something she surely owed Junko after how many times their roles had been reversed.

“I love you,” Mikan murmured, kissing the crown of Junko’s head.

Junko pressed a lingering kiss to Mikan’s lively pulse. “Who wouldn’t?”

Mikan giggled, finally relaxing and feeling her heart slow down as Junko gradually drifted off to sleep in her arms.

For the rest of that night, at least, their biding nightmares let them be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Let me know if you enjoyed and want more :)


	3. Zombie AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She laughed like their journey together wasn’t over. Like she didn’t regret any of her choices. Like she wasn’t afraid of dying. Like she would beat death somehow and prove her assumed invincibility. 
> 
> But reality was cruel and too soon, like all things, that beautiful laughter faded.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Zombie Apocalypse AU. Warning for Major Character Death. The death doesn't actually occur in the fic but it is talked about and heavily implied that it happens not long after.

A part of Mikan always thought Junko was invincible. She thought if anyone out there was immune to the virus it would be Junko. She was a powerful, confident, charismatic leader. She was an unstoppable force of nature. An inspirational beacon of a survivor. The shining ray of hope in Mikan’s dark, dreary, and otherwise miserable world.

But everything was going dim now.

If Junko had gotten bit on her hand or foot Mikan could have amputated the limbs to save her life, but getting bit on the neck? It wasn’t... she couldn’t...

An ugly, violent wail tore from Mikan’s throat.

“W-why did you sacrifice yourself for me?”

Her shrill voice echoed in the abandoned cottage sheltering them after they escaped a small horde in the woods, and such an outburst would have been risky if not for the veiling thunder and pounding rain.

She hovered in a panic over Junko who carelessly sprawled on the worn couch like she owned the place; like she wasn’t sporting a fatal injury. Junko even had the audacity to chuckle, the noise fading to a groan as Mikan applied pressure to her wound, blood dripping through her trembling fingers. Mikan bit her lip, desperately pressing harder.

This couldn’t be real. _Please_ , this couldn’t be real.

“That look of despair...” Junko smiled at her, eyes cloudy and dreamlike. “You wouldn’t have looked like this if you got bit instead.”

“You did this for d-despair?” Mikan asked incredulously as she kept one hand at Junko’s neck while using the other to fish out a bandage from her pack. Her vision was blurry and her hands were shaking so hard she couldn’t get a grip of anything. “T-that matters to you more than your own life?”

“Oh, such hopelessness,” Junko said instead of giving an answer. Junko stroked Mikan’s cheek with the cracked remains of her fake red nails, distracting Mikan from her task. “You look so beautiful like this Mikan.”

Tears finally slid down Mikan’s cheeks, creeping between Junko’s fingers. “A-are you saying you wouldn’t have felt despair if I-I got bit instead?”

Junko shook her head, looking amused. “Silly. Of course I would have. But this despair is so much better.” Junko wiped at her tears. “This is better...”

Mikan didn’t understand— _couldn’t_ understand that logic. None of this made any sense. Nothing Junko did ever made sense to her. Junko’s presence in her life had just caused one confusing, chaotic tumble after another.

But the thought of life without Junko, of trying to survive this apocalypse without her... Mikan couldn’t take it. What value did this world have without Junko? What value did Mikan’s life have without her?

Absolutely none.

“Then,” Mikan moved to stand even with her rattling knees, “t-then I’ll get bit, too!”

“ _No_!” Junko shouted, roughly gripping Mikan’s face with both hands and holding her in place so she couldn’t look away from her intense stare. Mikan couldn’t even remember the last time she had seen Junko look so serious. “Then this despair is _pointless_!”

“B-but,” Mikan sobbed, teeth clattering, her chest impossibly tight, “I-I don’t want to feel like this, J-Junko...”

Junko’s responsive smile that melted away the hard features of her face wasn’t exactly sympathetic but there was something oddly comforting about it.

“This despair is overwhelming,” Junko said, taking one of Mikan’s hands and pressing it firmly against her chest. Despite Junko’s calm, content expression, her heart was pattering furiously, and Junko willingly showing her that emotion, that truth, was something Mikan didn’t know how to interpret. “Nothing else will feel like this. Cherish it, like I will.”

What did it mean? What did any of this mean? Why did any of this matter when she was about to lose the most important person in the world to her?

Why did Mikan get to live? Why was Junko dying in her place? It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t right.

“Y-you could’ve survived this on your own, Junko. You’re so much s-stronger than me. I...” Mikan wept, shoulders heaving. “I-I can’t do this by myself. Not w-without you.”

Junko sighed like she often did when she was bored. “You’re so dumb sometimes, Mikan.”

Mikan looked up to see Junko’s miraculous, confusing, confident smile again. “You can heal any injury you come across,” Junko continued. “You’ll be fine.”

“But I-I can’t heal _you_. I can’t... s-save you...” Mikan hid her face in her hands. She was useless as a companion; a failure as a healer. Junko would have lived if not for her. “I-it should’ve been me...”

Junko ignored her worries and her guilt as if they were things that were of no relevance to her. “Find Mukuro,” she said, firmly changing the subject. “That’s been the goal since we set out. You remember the directions, right?”

Mikan nodded, grimacing. “H-how am I supposed to tell her why... w-why you’re not with me?”

“You won’t have to tell her. She’ll understand.”

Mikan’s shoulders sagged. “She’ll be heartbroken...”

“Yeah. She’ll probably kill someone. Not you, though. She’d kill herself before letting you die.”

Mikan frowned, not liking that implication or Junko’s confidence about it. “H-how are you so sure of that?”

Junko smiled in that strange way once again, like she knew something Mikan didn’t.

“Because she always liked copying me.”

Mikan didn’t know what to say to that. Truly, she didn’t. Her voice got lost in her throat as the incessant rain against the roof turned her thoughts to white noise. She tried focusing on the way Junko was staring at her; the way her chest rose and fell; how Junko’s warm skin—getting sweatier as time rolled on—felt against hers.

Breath and warmth and life that soon wouldn’t—

“This storm will probably last awhile,” Junko said, jolting Mikan from her thoughts. “You should be safe here until morning.” Junko looked serious again for a moment, gently patting Mikan’s wet cheek. “But before you sleep you need to chain me up, understand? And not in the kinky way we both like. Make sure I can’t escape.” Then Junko shrugged, letting her arms fall back down. “Whether you kill me or leave me to turn is up to you.”

That was something Mikan had avoided thinking about and having it said so bluntly nearly made her retch. That was too much responsibility for her. How could she even consider sleeping after being forced to make a choice where she dreaded both outcomes? When she knew Junko’s time was up either way?

How could she sleep knowing she would be alone when she woke up?

“H-how can you expect me to choose something like that?” Mikan muttered weakly, gripping at Junko’s shirt. “I-I can’t make a decision like that b-by myself...”

“You could flip a coin.”

Mikan gasped. “Junko!”

Junko grinned, pointing at the numerous cracks in the old floorboards. “But you’re so clumsy you’d probably lose the coin before you saw what side it landed on.”

An angrier noise this time. “ _Junko_!”

Junko laughed, loudly and freely, so boisterous and cheerful and infectious like she didn’t have a care in the world. Like she wasn’t going to get sicker by the hour. Like she would actually open her eyes in the morning.

She laughed like she and Mikan would leave this cottage tomorrow together, setting off to get one step closer to finding Mukuro like they did every day. She laughed like she did when Mikan would trip over a thick root in the woods or some rubble on the roads or even her own feet, but then would help her up with a warm hand. She laughed like she did when they would have a little too much to drink by their campfire and then their hands and lips would find each other’s and refuse to separate until sunrise.

She laughed like their journey together wasn’t over. Like she didn’t regret any of her choices. Like she wasn’t afraid of dying. Like she would beat death somehow and prove her assumed invincibility.

But reality was cruel and too soon, like all things, that beautiful laughter faded.

“You can figure that out later,” Junko said afterwards, the look in her eyes shifting to something more primal and urgent. “For now...”

Junko slid her hand behind Mikan’s neck and pulled, crashing their lips together. Mikan sobbed into her mouth, crying harder, kissing her with every ounce of energy she still had. She would miss this. Her heart throbbed at the thought of how much she would miss this—miss Junko. She had to make every second count; every flutter of fingers, brush of lips, stolen breath, mattered more than ever.

They kissed for a long time, too long for Mikan to keep track, and when Junko finally pulled away Mikan thought she was seeing things because Junko’s eyes were red.

“You’re a nurse,” Junko said with a smile, her voice wobbling only slightly. Her grip tightened in Mikan’s hair as she shed a tear for the first and last time since Mikan had known her. “You’ll take care of me until I die, won’t you?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you enjoyed please let me know! I'm having a lot of fun writing these.


	4. Soft Mornings (Side A)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mikan’s mornings always began the same way. The only differentiating factor was how close Junko’s extremely loud snores were to her ear.

Mikan’s mornings always began the same way.

She was an early riser by nature, no alarm clock or sunlight needed, and her body naturally woke her up around the same time every morning. In those first few seconds of rejoining reality she would register how warm she was, how comfy she was, how much she didn’t want to get out of bed and how she _wouldn’t_ get out of bed until Junko was awake, too. In the next few seconds her hearing would return and she would pick up the familiar and almost homely sound of Junko’s snores.

The only differentiating factor was how close Junko’s extremely loud snores were to her ear.

Sometimes Mikan would wake with Junko snuggled up so close to her those deafening snores would make her eardrums ring like gongs. Other times that noise would be muffled thanks to half of Junko’s limp body hanging off the bed, her face molding to their bedroom carpet.

Today was one of the in-between days where Junko somehow managed not to thrash off the bed nor was she fastened around Mikan like an iron maiden, so rather than her ears the only part of Mikan that was suffering was her arm; numb from being trapped under Junko’s weight.

And despite her 99 pound prison Mikan smiled, tender and dreamy and so in love.

She felt blessed to get to fall asleep next to Junko every night and to wake up to that beautiful, blissful, snoring face every day. Mikan cherished these relaxing, intimate moments with Junko and not once did Mikan consider waking her up.

Junko was always so energetic and chaotic when she was awake and Mikan loved that about her, but Mikan also loved seeing Junko at peace when she slept.

Mikan watched the rise and fall of Junko’s chest with soft eyes, reaching over and using her pointer finger to trace invisible shapes over Junko’s heart, and she continued to do so for the insignificant amount of time it took for Junko’s snores to cease.

Junko groaned, stretching her arms high above her head and giving a big yawn. Mikan couldn’t look away, mesmerized by every move Junko made, every breath she took, and swore she fell deeper in love with her every morning.

When Junko’s arms came back down she wiped at her eyes and then looked to where Mikan’s finger was still gliding along her chest.

“Handsy this morning, huh?” Junko teased with a lopsided smirk, voice still husky with sleep.

Mikan blushed shamefully even though she knew she did nothing to be ashamed of, pulling back the limb in question. “I-I just like being c-close to you,” she defended weakly. It was the truth, though. The only time she wasn’t lonely and felt true comfort was when she got to be with Junko like this.

That infamous smirk only grew. “Did you cop a feel, too?”

“Junko!” Mikan gasped, looking away and fidgeting. “Y-you know I wouldn’t do that while y-you’re sleeping!”

The teasing lift stayed in Junko’s tone but warmth grew in her eyes. “And _you_ know I wouldn’t care. See, here you go!” Junko took Mikan’s hand and smashed it against her boob, curling her fingers to ensure Mikan got a full, firm grip. Mikan’s jaw dropped, uncontrollable stutters falling from her lips as she tried, and failed, to simmer the blazing heat in her cheeks, and it only got worse as Junko started laughing.

But that laughter stopped as soon as it started. Junko was reaching around but couldn’t seem to find what she was looking for.

“Where’s your other hand?” she finally asked.

“U-u-um,” Mikan mumbled, distracted by everything that encompassed the words _soft_ and _warm_ and _big_ , “t-t-trapped under you.”

“Oh, _that’s_ what that is. I thought we forgot to put away a toy again.”

Junko arched her body—Mikan suddenly had trouble breathing—just enough to free Mikan’s sore arm, only to slam Mikan’s other hand against her other waiting breast.

“There!” Junko grinned ear to ear, holding Mikan’s hands firmly against her. “Problem solved.”

This wasn’t actually an unusual thing to occur during their mornings—similar scenarios happened more often than Mikan would admit—but it still flustered her every time.

She had seen Junko, touched her, so many times by now, but Mikan knew it would never matter. She would always feel shy about touching her beloved, even when it was clear how much Junko didn’t mind and even encouraged her curious hands.

“ _Admit it_ ,” Junko purred, the vibrato sparking a shiver down Mikan’s spine, “this is a great way to wake up, isn’t it?”

Mikan’s face still burned red but she smiled, finally allowing her body to relax as much as she could. Junko was overwhelming, sometimes too much for meek little Mikan to handle, but Mikan knew this was just Junko’s way of showing affection. And she knew it was affection reserved for her and her alone.

“Yes,” Mikan whispered.

Junko’s gaze softened, lightly tugging Mikan’s wrist. “C’mere.”

Junko gently hauled Mikan on top of her but despite the previous teasing Mikan could tell there was nothing sexual about this gesture. This was about closeness, about showing physical affection when words weren’t enough, and Junko wasn’t taking her eyes or her hands off her.

“W-what is it?” Mikan finally asked, unable to handle Junko staring at her so openly.

She didn’t get a verbal response, only Junko’s hands cupping her cheeks and pulling her down into a kiss. Mikan was surprised for only a moment before melting against Junko, settling her weight on top of her and burying her hands in a wavy sea of thick blonde tresses.

Junko’s kisses were always soft and slow in the morning, her movements languid and graceful as if they were roaming underwater. Mikan was entranced, breathless, the only oxygen flowing to her lungs given by the tingly magic pouring from Junko’s lips. Mikan’s heart pounded against her ribs, so loud it was the only sound in her ears, everything else muted and dark as if they had sunk to the bottom of the ocean.

Long nails traced her jaw and thin fingers pulled her closer and Mikan trembled, butterflies tumbling in her stomach as if their wings were torn. She surrendered fully to Junko like always, like she yearned to do, like she loved doing, but Junko’s actions didn’t become rougher and dominating like they normally would at night.

That never occurred during their mornings. Mornings were a slice in the flow of time where nothing existed except for them. Mornings were warm. Mornings were soft.

Mornings made Junko sluggish with love. Mornings almost made Junko seem like a normal person. And Mikan would stay in Junko’s arms like this forever if she could but, she knew, unlike a normal person, Junko had other plans.

But, if Mikan were honest, she wasn’t normal either, and Junko’s plans excited her, too.

“So,” Junko said, eyes twinkling dangerously as she pulled away from their kiss, “how shall we spread despair today?”

Mikan’s mornings always ended the same way. The only differentiating factor was how quickly despair got her out of bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There will be a Part 2 / alternate side to this chapter sometime in the future. Thank you for reading! Let me know if you enjoyed :)


	5. Soft Mornings (Side B)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mikan’s mornings always began the same way. The only differentiating factor was how close Junko’s extremely loud snores were to her ear.
> 
> But this morning was slightly different from her previous one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is what happens if things occur a little differently in the morning. A lot of the sentences are the same / slightly altered from the last chapter to show how similarly soft these circumstances are even when slightly different events occur.
> 
> Bumped the rating up to M for this chapter just in case for mild sexual themes.

Mikan’s mornings always began the same way.

She was an early riser by nature, no alarm clock or sunlight needed, and her body naturally woke her up around the same time every morning. In those first few seconds of rejoining reality she would register how warm she was, how comfy she was, how much she didn’t want to get out of bed and how she _wouldn’t_ get out of bed until Junko was awake, too. In the next few seconds her hearing would return and she would pick up the familiar and almost homely sound of Junko’s snores.

The only differentiating factor was how close Junko’s extremely loud snores were to her ear.

Sometimes Mikan would wake with Junko snuggled up so close to her those deafening snores would make her eardrums ring like gongs. Other times that noise would be muffled thanks to half of Junko’s limp body hanging off the bed, her face molding to their bedroom carpet.

Today was one of those days where Junko was pressed right against her back, warm and soft, an arm snug around her waist. The snores were like a rocket engine in her ear with hot breath like steam wafting over her skin but Mikan didn’t mind; in fact she cherished every noise and touch. She felt blessed to get to fall asleep next to Junko every night and to wake up to that beautiful, blissful, snoring face every day. Mikan cherished these relaxing, intimate moments with Junko and not once did Mikan consider waking her up.

Junko was always so energetic and chaotic when she was awake and Mikan loved that about her, but Mikan also loved seeing Junko at peace when she slept.

Mikan trailed her fingers along Junko’s arm, enjoying the feel of her soft skin. With her pointer finger she traced invisible shapes and words of affection from Junko’s elbow down to her fake nails and she continued to do so for the insignificant amount of time it took for Junko’s snores to cease.

The body behind her shifted a little followed by the sound of an adorable yawn.

“Good morning, Junko,” Mikan murmured, smiling.

Junko hummed lazily in response, rubbing her nose affectionately at Mikan’s neck. Mikan giggled, reaching an arm back to tangle her fingers in Junko’s loose hair.

“You’re perky this morning,” Junko commented, voice still husky with sleep.

Mikan blushed, slightly thankful Junko couldn’t really see her face from this angle. “I-I like being close to you.”

Soft kisses peppered the nape of Mikan’s neck in response. She giggled again, the ticklish sensation making her squirm in Junko’s hold.

That only seemed to inspire Junko though, because right after Mikan felt the wet heat of an _extremely_ long tongue.

Mikan jumped at the sudden touch, her cheeks burning. “J-Junko?”

The tip of that tongue casually circled her shoulder, the flat of it sliding up her neck and leaving shivers in the base of Mikan’s skull. Teeth grazed her earlobe and the arm at her waist held her tighter, keeping her secure as Mikan trembled under the affections.

Butterflies fluttered in Mikan’s core as the hand at her waist began to wander, running over her quivering stomach and ghosting across her ribs. Then it flew a little higher, a single long fingernail trailing up the side of her breast.

Blood flowed hot like magma in Mikan’s veins, her brain scrambled, hyper-focused on every touch. Her body was so sensitive and vulnerable and _warm_ and she was suddenly very aware of Junko’s bare breasts cushioning her back; of the long legs tangled between her own. “Jun—”

A gasp tumbled from Mikan’s mouth as that curious fingernail traced circles around her nipple, the bud hardening under the delicate touch. Junko pinched her nipple briefly before palming her breast, squeezing gently, all the while still nipping at her ear. Mikan worried her lip between her teeth, trying her best to conceal all the noises she knew Junko would indisputably summon from her throat.

This wasn’t actually an unusual thing to occur during their mornings—similar scenarios happened more often than Mikan would admit—but it still flustered her every time. Junko had seen her, touched her, so many times by now, but Mikan knew it would never matter. She would always feel shy about her beloved touching her. She couldn’t handle being under Junko’s full attention. Even the lightest of her touches were overwhelming to her. With one touch Junko could make Mikan completely lose control.

And Mikan craved that loss of control.

“ _Admit it_ ,” Junko purred at her ear, the vibrato sparking a shiver down Mikan’s spine, “this is a great way to wake up, isn’t it?”

Mikan trembled, biting her lip, unable to stop her smile. “Y-yes.”

Suddenly Junko grabbed Mikan’s breasts with both hands, Mikan giving a little cry. “ _Mine_ ,” Junko said.

Mikan moaned under her breath, pushing her chest further into Junko’s hold. “Yours.”

Feeling slightly bold, high off adrenaline and lust and warmth and love and Junko herself, Mikan hesitantly reached back and placed a shaky hand over Junko’s rear. “M-mine?”

Junko gave an approving chuckle, kissing her neck. “Yours.”

A hand left Mikan’s breast to cup her cheek and turn her face towards Junko’s, her lips caught in a sweet kiss soon after. Mikan was surprised for only a moment before melting against Junko, lifting her arm behind Junko’s head to bury her hand in a wavy sea of thick blonde tresses.

Junko’s kisses were always soft and slow in the morning, her movements languid and graceful as if they were roaming underwater. Mikan was entranced, breathless, the only oxygen flowing to her lungs given by the tingly magic pouring from Junko’s lips. Mikan’s heart pounded against her ribs, so loud it was the only sound in her ears, everything else muted and dark as if they had sunk to the bottom of the ocean.

Long nails traced her jaw and her breast and Mikan trembled, butterflies tumbling in her stomach as if their wings were torn. She surrendered fully to Junko like always, like she yearned to do, like she loved doing, but Junko’s actions didn’t become rougher and dominating like they normally would at night.

That never occurred during their mornings. Mornings were a slice in the flow of time where nothing existed except for them. Mornings were warm. Mornings were soft.

Mornings made Junko sluggish with love. Mornings almost made Junko seem like a normal person. And Mikan would stay in Junko’s arms like this forever if she could, and Junko, unlike a normal person, could somehow make their mornings feel like forever if that’s what she decided upon waking.

And based on how Junko was still curled around her like a cocoon and continuously lavishing her with affection...

“So,” Junko said, pulling away from the kiss to nip at Mikan’s ear, “how shall we spread despair today?”

Junko’s hand slid beneath the blanket pooled at her hips and Mikan gasped, arching into the soft body pressed against her.

Mikan’s mornings always ended the same way. The only differentiating factor was how long love kept her in bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! If you enjoyed please let me know!


	6. First Kill

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mikan kills someone for the first time for the sake of despair. Junko helps her through it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: this chapter is dark, contains heavy themes, and describes some gruesome images.

_It’s him or me._

_It’s him or me._

_It’s him... or..._

He charged, frantic and desperate, and her mind went blank. Her vision flashed white, black, then red.

A scream mimicking her own voice echoed off the stone walls, so deafening it felt like her brain was reduced to nothing but shallow ripples of mushy viscera. Her arms were heavy like lead and she couldn’t recall moving them but they were already moving, muscles straining and swinging, clawing for freedom. Clawing for life.

Clawing because it was either her or him.

A guttural cry unlike her own voice echoed next in her skull and then the limp body of the faceless man crumpled to the floor. Even as the crimson haze veiling her eyes cleared he still didn’t have a face, nor did she recognize his body or clothes. He was a complete stranger to her. She had nothing against him, held no hatred for him, and yet he was now rotting in a pool of his own blood because Mikan—

—murdered him.

Her stomach churned and she stumbled to the corner, ferociously retching. Her throat burned as she heaved out her remaining acidic contents and her body shook, tears sliding down her clammy cheeks.

Heels clicked behind her, harsh taps against stone, a tap or two against liquid, and only then did Mikan remember she had an audience this whole time.

“J-J-Junko,” she wheezed, clutching at her stomach as her whole body throbbed, “it h-hurts...”

Mikan looked up with blurry, stinging eyes at the powerful figure towering over her. Eyes like ice shards stared down at her, sharp and glistening; pointed and cold.

And then they softened as Junko knelt down next to her.

“Of course it hurts,” she said. “It’s supposed to hurt.”

“I-I didn’t,” Mikan sobbed, crawling closer to her, “I didn’t want this. W-why did you m-make me do this?”

Junko seemed unbothered by the question and the situation in general.

“This is how the world is now. You need to know how to survive in it. It was him or you, Mikan. It was kill or be killed.” A pleased grin bisected Junko’s face. “And you chose to kill.”

Mikan shivered, her insides twisting, ready to retch again at any moment. But she bit her lip, forcing it back down her throat. She couldn’t risk spewing bile on Junko’s designer clothes and perfect skin. And vomiting meant looking away from Junko’s divinity for even a second, and Mikan didn’t want that.

_I didn’t want... I didn’t..._

“I didn’t want... I-I didn’t...”

She couldn’t tell anymore whether she were speaking the words aloud or merely thinking them. It was hard to form rational thoughts and even harder to speak them.

Not with decay clouding her lungs. Not with blood on her hands. Not under Junko’s full attention.

Mikan shook her head, not needing to gaze upon the nearby corpse because her sin was burned into her retinas. “I-I don’t want to k-kill anyone else.”

“I know you don’t. Of course you don’t. Why would you?” Junko reached out to thumb away Mikan’s tears, or at least that’s what Mikan assumed, but when she pulled her hand back her fingertips matched the shade of her fake nails. “But you’ve already proved you would to save your own life.” Junko tilted her head like an epiphany just came to her. “What if it was for me? What if I would die if you didn’t kill the person threatening me? What then?”

Mikan trembled violently, teeth clattering, feeling agonizingly sick from the very thought. Junko was her only reason for living. If anything ever happened to Junko, Mikan didn’t know what she would do. She didn’t want to kill anyone again—ending someone’s life had changed her as a person forever, she knew, an innocence scraped from her soul she could never recover—but if she had to in order to save her beloved...

“I... h-hope it doesn’t c-come to that, Junko,” Mikan said. “J-just thinking about it brings me—”

“—Despair?”

Mikan released a shaky breath. “Y-yes.”

Suddenly all of Junko’s scary, calculating features melted away into a soft smile and she gathered Mikan up in her arms, tucking Mikan’s head under her chin. Mikan sobbed, suddenly feeling warm and safe but still in so much pain, burying her face in Junko’s neck and gripping shaky fistfuls of her shirt with stained fingers.

“Shh, shh, it’s okay,” Junko murmured in her ear, a hand threading through Mikan’s tangled hair. “Embrace the despair, Mikan. Never forget how it feels. I’m here to feel it with you.” Junko gave her a tight, consoling squeeze. “I’ll always be here to enjoy this precious despair with you.”

Something about that was comforting but Mikan still had trouble making sense of anything. Of this situation, of Junko’s logic, her feelings; this was all beyond the reality she knew. Everything was different now. She didn’t know how she was supposed to act. Supposed to feel.

She needed Junko to tell her.

“I-it’s so overwhelming, J-Junko. I,” Mikan hiccupped, heart aching in her chest, “I-I don’t know what to do.”

Junko’s hand was an encouraging guide for the shivers up and down her spine. “Feel that loss of control? Let it consume you. It’s okay. You’re okay.” Junko pressed her cheek to Mikan’s head, shielding Mikan completely from the world around her. “You’re better than ever before.”

Mikan bit her lip, the pulsing in her chest suddenly a touch kinder under Junko’s reassurance and praise. “R-really?”

“What happened today will make you stronger. This will make you a survivor in my new world. It’ll ensure you’ll survive with me.” For a rare moment Junko’s voice softened to a tone she saved only for Mikan; a rare moment she allowed herself to be vulnerable. “‘Cause I want you with me.”

Those words made Mikan’s heart soar despite her pain and confusion and she looked up to meet Junko’s gaze.

“I’ll n-never leave you, Junko,” Mikan said, her words sure and determined despite the waver in her voice. “I-I love you. I’ll do w-whatever it takes to s-stay with you.”

Junko smiled and pressed a gentle, lingering kiss to her forehead. “That’s my girl.”

Mikan blushed and shuddered—she was never prepared for when Junko decided to be openly affectionate—as Junko helped her to her feet, keeping her arms around Mikan’s waist to hold her steady.

“Now c’mon, let’s head back home and get you cleaned up. You look hot like this but you probably feel gross, yeah?” Junko leaned down, brushing her lips against Mikan’s ear. “You deserve a reward for today, don’t you? Wanna shower together?”

Mikan trembled, face hot and sweaty, knees nearly buckling as she clutched tighter onto Junko. She nodded feverishly into Junko’s shoulder, her senses losing control for different reasons than before—

—and she loved the loss of control.

Of course she would become stronger. Of course she would embrace this despair. Of course she would kill.

Anything to survive with Junko.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! I really enjoyed writing this one as a change of pace. If you enjoyed let me know!


	7. Gaming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “How is it that not only does Mikan’s clumsiness transfer to in-game, but it also only benefits YOU?”  
> aka the Despair Crew plays Mario Party and Mikan unintentionally helps Junko win.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the best and funniest thing I've written in my entire life lmao I adore Mario Party so I had to write this.

“Mukuro, I KNOW you didn’t just steal my star.”

“All’s fair in Mario Party, sis.”

“So is an ice pick in your eye once this round’s over.”

“Wow, you’d actually be willing to wait until we finished playing? How considerate of you.”

“Eat my ass.”

“Why me? Mikan’s right there.”

“‘Cause she’d actually enjoy it!”

“U-um...”

“Mikan, I KNOW you’re not about to deny that.”

Mikan squeaked, curling in on herself and trying to sink into the couch. Why did they have to talk about her like she wasn’t there along with sharing extremely personal and extremely accurate statements?

Junko just laughed, using her arm around Mikan’s waist to tug her closer against her side. Mikan whimpered in embarrassment, hiding her face in Junko’s shoulder.

But Junko nudged her before she could get comfortable. “No time to be prudish about your sexual fantasies, Mikan.” She pointed a long red nail at the screen. “It’s your roll.”

Mikan couldn’t say who first brought it up or how it all happened, but she found herself roped into playing Mario Party that afternoon with Junko, Mukuro and Tsumugi. Mikan didn’t play many video games growing up and her complete lack of luck and skill kept her in dead last so far while Junko and Mukuro aggressively battled for first.

Which in itself was entertaining and helped distract Mikan from her pitiful losing streak. Junko was competitive by nature, she always had to be the best, but Mukuro? Mukuro didn’t care about things like that. Mukuro was always content living in Junko’s shadow so long as Junko was happy. Mukuro would do anything for Junko.

Except give her an easy win in Mario Party, apparently. The star Mukuro just stole bumped her up to first place.

“I’ll kill you in your sleep tonight,” Junko said.

Mukuro was unfazed. “You can certainly try.”

“G-guys, please stop fighting!” Mikan said. She looked to Tsumugi for help but Tsumugi held up her hands, clearly unwilling to get involved. Unsuccessful in her intervention, Mikan laid a desperate hand on Junko’s leg. “J-Junko, please don’t h-hurt Mukuro.”

Junko scoffed. “Why are you taking _her_ side?” Junko jutted out her lower lip in a fake pout. “You’re supposed to be _my_ girlfriend.”

Mikan stammered, wringing her hands together and looking up at Junko shyly through her eyelashes. “B-but if you spend the night t-trying to kill Mukuro then you w-won’t be in bed with me...”

“Ah.” Mukuro shot Mikan a deadpanned leer. “For a second there I presumed you cared for my wellbeing, Mikan. But it all circles back to you wanting to eat my sister’s ass, doesn’t it?”

“W-what?” Mikan spluttered, her face burning. “N-no, that’s—”

“She can do that later!” Junko said, impatiently tapping Mikan’s arm. “Hurry up and take your turn, Mikan. I gotta get my hard earned star back.”

Tsumugi held up a finger. “You plainly stole it from me earlier—”

“Y’all hear somethin’?” Junko drawled, inspecting her nails.

Hoping to push things along and keep Junko from making things worse, Mikan finally took her turn with no exceptional results.

“Why are we doing a 50 turn round again?” Tsumugi asked. The same question had roamed in Mikan’s head for awhile. “This is plainly gonna take us all day.”

“‘Cause fuck you, that’s why,” Junko said, sneering. “You bitches have nothing better to do anyway.”

That wasn’t necessarily untrue—they all somehow loved wasting their days with Junko even when she acted like this—but did she have to word it like that?

Junko took her turn and landed on a red space, losing some of her coins. She huffed, slamming her controller— _thankfully_ —against the couch cushion rather than the hardwood floor.

“This board _sucks_ ,” Junko complained, flipping off the TV. “Horror Land? More like Whore Land. The fuck is this shit? There should be one called Junkoland.” She gestured in Tsumugi’s direction. “You’re a weeb, right? Make it for me.”

Tsumugi looked startled from the attention suddenly on her. “But I’m plainly only a cosplayer! I don’t know how to make video games.”

Junko clicked her tongue. “That sounds like a _you_ problem.”

“Chihiro could probably program it for you if you asked nicely,” Mukuro said.

“You lost me at nicely.”

After Tsumugi took her turn the roulette offered them a four player mini-game. Not that it mattered to Mikan what type of mini-game they had to play; she would fail miserably at it whether she knew the instructions or not.

As expected, Mikan’s character stumbled around the screen as she panicked, knocking herself, Mukuro, and Tsumugi off the stage.

“Fuck yeah!” Junko cheered, dancing in her seat to the victory fanfare.

Mukuro thrust her hand out at the screen, a baffled look on her face. “How is it that not only does Mikan’s clumsiness transfer to in-game, but it also only benefits YOU?”

“It’s ‘cause she looooves me,” Junko said, rubbing her cheek against Mikan’s who blushed and whimpered under her affection.

“I-I swear I’m not d-doing it on purpose!” Mikan said.

“It’s ‘cause she looooves me,” Junko repeated.

Mukuro just sat back in her seat, rubbing at her temples.

The new turn started and Mikan immediately landed on Chance Time, the most chaotic space she could have landed on. Being so deep in the bowels of last place meant she had nothing to lose but Junko and Mukuro both leaned forward, elbows on their knees, staring intently at the screen. An event like this could change the whole game for them, which meant a fight could break out, and the pressure of that made anxiety shoot through Mikan like a rocket.

A few awkward jumps later and Mikan ended up transferring Junko her only star (which she had received from a pity hidden block anyway), hoisting Junko back into first.

“That’s my girl!” Junko cheered, pressing kisses all over Mikan’s reddening face.

“How?” Mukuro asked incredulously. “How does all her bad luck transmute to your good luck? It goes beyond all reason.”

Junko ignored her. “Mikan, if I end up winning ‘cause of that, my ass will be your personal all-you-can-eat buffet. Go all night long if you want!”

Why did it have to keep coming back to that?

“W-what if I just w-wanted to cuddle?” Mikan asked.

Junko pulled Mikan onto her lap, displaying a beautiful smile that made Mikan’s heart skip a beat.

“That works, too.”

The roulette offered them another four player mini-game, one that would require focus to not fall off the stage—and to not knock others off as well.

With a smirk, Junko began peppering kisses all over Mikan’s neck as soon as the game started. Mikan moaned, her thoughts flying far away from the game. She tried to press the buttons on her controller but why did it matter with Junko’s lips on her neck like that?

“Get a room,” Mukuro said.

“Get good at this game,” Junko countered.

“You’re distracting Mikan so you can win easier.”

“All’s fair in Mario Party, bitch.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! If you enjoyed please let me know, I appreciate the support :)


	8. Massage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Here, let me make it up to you.” The weight on the bed shifted as Junko leaned over to brush the bangs from Mikan’s eyes. “Does a massage sound nice?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This may be the most self-indulgent thing I've ever written lmao

Mikan sighed as she returned to Junko’s dorm, collapsing on the bed. Her muscles pulled and ached and she felt like she could pass out at any moment.

The mattress sank as a weight settled next to her followed by the familiar scent of spicy perfume.

“Are you okay?” Junko asked. “Is there someone who needs their eyes gouged out? _Ooh_ , or someone who wants to experience a sex dungeon without the sex?” An excited giggle. “Well, I guess they _would_ get fucked but only in a way that’s hot to me.”

Mikan took a slow breath. Junko had really been like this from day one, hadn’t she? Mikan just didn’t notice since she always placed Junko on such a high pedestal.

“No, no one b-bullied me,” Mikan said. “T-there were just a lot of extra patients in the nurse’s office today. There was a g-giant group of them at once. I assume t-they all got into a fight but none of them would t-tell me.”

“Ah, that’s my bad,” Junko said sheepishly, scratching her cheek. “Or good. Good that I spread chaos but bad that you were forced on cleanup duty.”

“W-what did you do?”

“Nothing that ended in despair, sadly. Just spread a little rumour. That’s all it takes for some people to swing the first punch.”

“W-were you that bored?”

“I’m always bored.”

Should’ve seen that answer coming.

“W-well, thanks to your boredom I d-definitely wasn’t bored. I’m h-happy I could help those people but I’m sore all over.”

“Here, let me make it up to you.” The weight on the bed shifted as Junko leaned over to brush the bangs from Mikan’s eyes. “Does a massage sound nice?”

Mikan chewed at her lip. Nothing sounded better than that. The mere suggestion rendered her voiceless so all she could do was shyly nod.

“Shirt on?” Junko asked, careful blue eyes flickering between hers. “Or off?”

Mikan was thankful for Junko’s consideration—Junko was always so mindful of her anxieties and insecurities—but Mikan was quick to discard her shirt, desperate for some pain relief. And even more desperate to feel Junko’s hands directly on her skin.

Mikan laid down on her front, folding her arms under her head. Her heart thrummed in her chest as she felt Junko straddle her lower back, thick thighs embracing Mikan’s hips.

Junko brushed her hair out of the way, her movements slow and delicate. Her fingertips gently traced nonsensical words along Mikan’s exposed shoulders, the same movements slowly moving Mikan’s bra straps down her shoulders and out of the way, before fanning out her hands and applying pressure.

Mikan moaned immediately, sinking deeper into the mattress.

“I’m good, I know,” Junko chuckled, and Mikan could sense her smirk.

“This feels w-wonderful, Junko,” Mikan murmured, losing herself under her beloved’s warm touch. “T-thank you.”

Junko hummed and then gave a quiet grunt. “Found a knot. Brace yourself, okay?”

Junko swirled her motions to unwind the knot in her upper back and Mikan bit her lip, a harsh breath releasing through her nose. It was a sweet pain, something that made her whole body tense but she knew it would feel so good when it was over.

And Junko’s hands were always capable of pain or pleasure. Receiving both at once was thrilling.

When the knot was dealt with Mikan exhaled her residual breath, groaning at the remaining ache. She knew she was sweating now and needed a small break, and Junko always seemed to know what she needed, as Junko leaned down and pressed slow, lingering kisses all over her neck and shoulders. Mikan shuddered, briefly tensing up again, before relaxing under Junko’s care, unable to fight her wide smile as Junko kept kissing her. Languid caresses from expert fingers ghosted across her back in patterned strokes while Junko continued lavishing her with her lips.

Then all of a sudden the comforting movements stopped.

“There’s another knot.” A pause. “Your bra’s in the way, though.”

Mikan bit her lip, leaving indents by this point, suddenly more out of breath than before.

“Y-you can undo it.”

“Are you sure?”

Junko was so patient with her. So considerate. Mikan loved her so much.

“Y-yeah. I w-want you to.”

Now there was something so careful in Junko’s movements; as if she were sculpting something special and one wrong move would ruin the whole thing. Fingernails traced the edges of the fabric, played with it, giving Mikan time to change her mind if she wished, before skilled fingers unhooked the garment and it pooled under Mikan’s breasts.

Neither of them said anything, and maybe Mikan was just getting ahead of herself, but there was something so intimate to her in the way Junko’s fingers tenderly wandered over her freshly exposed skin; skin Junko had never touched before. It was like she wanted to adore and cherish and memorize every new inch; to compensate for the sore lack of attention this path of flesh had received while hidden.

Mikan had already forgotten about the knot and gasped in pain as Junko started working on it. This was a much more agonizing experience than before and Mikan felt her toes curl, her entire body desiring to get away from the pain, but she couldn’t with Junko sitting on her.

Junko’s frustrated groans were even louder than Mikan’s anguished ones. “This one’s a dick. Bear through it, okay?” A quick kiss was pressed to the crown of her head. “The reward will be worth the punishment, I promise.”

The words helped Mikan relax even if just a little bit, and when Junko finally finished Mikan sighed, feeling her whole body deflate. She wiped some sweat from her forehead and tried to regulate her breathing but that proved difficult when Junko leaned over to kiss at her neck again, this time ensuring her breasts squished against Mikan’s back. Mikan’s fingers twitched, hyperaware of the soft weight sandwiching her to the mattress, and she had to bite back a disappointed huff when Junko sat up again.

Just as Mikan was going to ask if Junko was finished, a moan shattered Mikan’s lips and all coherent thoughts were banished from her mind as Junko’s acrylic nails dragged down her back. God, she _loved_ the feel of Junko’s nails. It was her weakness more than anything else. Each burning trail kindled heat at her core and she tried to subtly rub her thighs together, hoping Junko wouldn’t notice.

Of course she noticed.

“Like that, huh?”

Junko’s nails dug deeper and Mikan’s back arched, her spine curving in a frantic attempt to never let those nails leave her skin. They were rough, then feather-light and ticklish, then rougher than before, and the contrasting sensations had her skin tingling along with other places.

Mikan struggled to speak. “Jun... ko...”

She could sense Junko’s smirk.

“Was the massage good?” Junko purred in her ear, sending shivers spiraling down Mikan’s spine. “Or does my girl want more?”

With a pant Mikan flipped over, blushing at Junko’s cloudy, lustful gaze, then she giggled when those eyes wandered a bit lower than her face. Mikan pushed up her bare chest, relishing being under Junko’s full attention and desperate to have those hands on her body again.

“Please massage t-this side, too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I may also... be working on... a multi-chapter slow burn Junko x Mikan fic... if that interests anyone... lol let me know! :)


	9. Empath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She didn’t know how to feel anything on her own. She needed others to feel things for her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one has quite a different feel to it than the others, and it's also the first drabble from Junko's perspective. Junko is canonically extremely empathetic (people aren't ready to talk about that tho) so I wanted to explore that!

Junko was an empath.

But not to the same degree others were. She wasn’t just highly attuned to the emotional states of those around her. She wasn’t just able to view matters from their perspective and share in their emotions.

She didn’t know how to feel anything on her own. She needed others to feel things for her. Only then could she indulge in all of these complex feelings other humans seemed to have.

Nothing seemed to make her happy, but when her friends wore big, dazzling smiles she couldn’t help but smile, too. She didn’t feel sadness, but when her friends sobbed and cried she found her vision too blurry to see. She didn’t get angry, but when her friends were mad she always had an itch to dirty her blade.

Emotions were so fascinating, so delectable, but overtime many of them grew boring. She needed to feel more. Needed experiences beyond what she already knew. There were billions of people in this world so there must be people out there with intoxicating feelings that could level her insatiable cravings.

She was often curious about morbid things—and not mere simplicities like what it would feel like to be stabbed. That was something she could do on her own so she already tried it, and there was nothing interesting or titillating about mutilating herself when there was no further reward or consequence; when there were no further emotions for her to consume. She was much more captivated by the things she couldn’t achieve on her own.

Such as how it would feel to be stabbed by a loved one. That was much more interesting than stabbing herself. Her sister still didn’t feel safe around her.

Such as how a person would change when they lost all hope. She didn’t feel hope to begin with, so she had to snag a volunteer and snuff out that hope until only the ashes of despair remained.

Such as what reflected in a person’s eyes when they were about to die. She wouldn’t be able to contemplate this if she killed herself, wouldn’t be able to witness the raw severity, so she had to ask one of her friends for a favour.

Many tears were involved during her analyses, mostly from her. Their despair was so great, so rugged, that she couldn’t help but cry with them. How amazing it must be to genuinely feel something that immense without having to feed off it like a leech.

She was a succubus, forever draining the energy of those around her; leaving piles of sullen, apathetic husks by her feet until most of the world was consumed by hellfire. The one feeling she never grew tired of devouring from people was despair; it was the strongest, left her fuller the longest, and what better way to cause despair than by fucking over the whole world?

All her old friends abandoned her. She had felt anger and sadness at the time because that’s what they felt, but now she felt nothing. She had no one to leech from. So day by day she wandered these war torn streets, waiting to feel something.

She wished to feel something on her own. She didn’t care what it was, whether it was joyful or painful, upsetting or rejuvenating; she just wanted emotions to call her own, regardless of how those around her felt.

She didn’t possess hope, she possessed nothing, but there had to be something or someone out there that could—

A gasp came from her right. “Y-you’re hurt!”

Someone suddenly grabbed her hand and pulled her away from the dangerous streets and into the rundown lobby of an abandoned building. This person was a woman probably around Junko’s age, clad in a white uniform filthy with grime and dried blood. Her uneven, thigh-length purple hair bounced as she fretted over Junko.

“I-it’s not safe out on the streets!” the woman said. Her voice was vulnerable and mousy, easily overpowered. She clumsily fished out some supplies from her bag. “H-here, let me he-help you.”

But if Junko were out on the streets, maybe she’d learn to feel something on her own. Maybe fear if a bullet came too close, or if someone held a knife to her throat. Maybe pride if someone recognized her as the organizer of this disaster. Maybe agony if she happened upon the corpse of someone she knew.

How was she supposed to feel anything when—

 _Ouch_ , that stung.

“I-I know it hurts,” the woman consoled, continuing to clean the gash on Junko’s calf. “P-please try to bear through it, okay?”

Junko watched her work in silence for a long time. “Why are you helping me?” she eventually asked, deadpan.

“I’m a nurse. I-it’s my job.” She giggled. “Well, e-even if I wasn’t a nurse I still would. I l-love helping people.”

“Why?”

“Why?” The woman smiled. “B-because it makes me happy.”

That’s what she _said_ , so innocently too, but her swirling purple eyes reflected something much darker.

Junko had been analyzing her every word; every glance; every movement. When this woman saw someone in pain, her first feeling was joy rather than pity or concern. It was because she could turn their pain into happiness that it made her happy. Probably made her feel useful. Made her feel needed. She made people depend on her. Made their survivability depend on her.

She was a leech in her own right. She used others in order to feel, just like Junko. She was... fascinating.

“Weren’t you scared to run out and grab me?” Junko asked.

“O-of course I was. But h-helping you was more im-important than my fear.”

Feeling needed was more important than feeling fear. Feeling something stronger than fear was what this woman yearned for. Of course, no one would word it like that. Everyone needed to look like a saint in the eyes of others. No one was allowed to feel selfishly.

Junko wanted to feel selfishly.

“T-there we go,” the nurse said, wrapping a bandage around Junko’s leg. “T-that’s good for now. I’ve s-set up a makeshift hospital underground. I-if you have nowhere else to go, p-please come stay with me.”

How would this nurse feel if Junko killed her patients right in front of her?

How swiftly would that smile veer if she knew Junko was the cause of all those people getting hurt?

Junko looked away, towards the apocalyptic streets; towards the decaying world, burnt and tarnished by her own hand.

She didn’t belong in a place of healing. A place of hope.

“You look e-empty inside.”

Something inside Junko _shifted_ , and she looked up to meet the nurse’s intense gaze.

“T-that’s okay,” the nurse continued warmly. “M-my hospital is for a-all kinds of patients. Let me take c-care of you. If you’re o-overwhelmed by despair, don’t be afraid to sh-share it with me. I’ll take on all your burdens, I p-promise.”

Suddenly everything about this person seemed so much brighter, so beautiful, like a blinding veil had been torn off, and Junko couldn’t look away. “You want me to share my despair with you?”

“Of course.” The nurse rested her clammy hand over Junko’s and squeezed. “That would make me so h-happy.”

Junko always yearned to feel what other people felt. It was the only way she could feel anything. The only way she could call herself human.

Never had someone wanted to feel what she felt.

Her heartbeat sped up. There was a flutter of warmth in her chest.

This wasn’t the nurse’s happiness. This wasn’t the nurse’s despair. Junko wasn’t sure what this feeling was.

But she felt it on her own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! If you enjoyed please let me know :)


	10. Vampire AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Junko's hungry. Mikan's more than willing to let her feed. After all, she craves it just as much.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a hot minute. I was sick for most of August and had no energy to write. But I've been getting back into the swing of things for the past few days and have made progress on a few drabbles. I wanted to finish this one first for purely self-indulgent reasons lol I love vampires and I love Junko, so of course I would combine the two.
> 
> Warning for mild sexual content.

“Mikaaaaan,” Junko moaned. “I’m hungry.”

“A-already?” Mikan, seated on the edge of her bed, looked behind her to see Junko sprawled out and clawing pitifully at her stomach like a dying animal. She was always so dramatic. “You f-fed last night.”

“Yeah, but it barely filled me up at all. Their blood sucked compared to yours. Heh, _sucked_. Get it?”

Mikan sighed. “Y-yes, I do.” She considered Junko’s unsubtle proposal as she nervously played with her fingers. She did just have dinner, one packed with fibre and protein, so that should keep her from getting too faintish so long as Junko didn’t go overboard.

But Junko always went overboard.

“I-I guess it’s no problem if you want a little,” Mikan mumbled.

“Aww, you say that like you don’t enjoy it when I bite you.” Junko licked her bright red lips with a long tongue that Mikan was intimately familiar with, an equally familiar fang poking out. “And we both know that’s not true.”

Mikan trembled, looking away. She couldn’t handle when Junko looked at her like that and spoke to her in that tone, like Junko knew she had her in the palm of her hand; like Junko knew exactly what to do to make her give in.

And Mikan did. She always did.

The mattress shifted as Junko crept closer and wrapped her arms around Mikan’s waist from behind.

“You were jelly last night, weren’t you?” Junko murmured in her ear and Mikan shivered, shoulders hunching up and skin tingling. “That I fed off some rando instead of you.”

Mikan’s heart skipped a beat. “N-no, w-why would I be...” Mikan shook her head. That weak lie wouldn’t work. Junko would see right through it. She rushed for something else to say, struggling to ignore how Junko’s delightfully chilly hands roamed across her stomach and the emergence of butterflies just below. “I-I need time to recover between your m-meals, Junko. Last time we didn’t take a b-break I fainted and was bedridden for nearly th-three days, in case y-you don’t remember.”

“Oh I remember everything. I got to play nurse for awhile instead of you.” Junko giggled. “That was a treat.”

The downplay of her genuine struggle during that time sobered Mikan just enough for her to produce a glare over her shoulder with all the fierceness she could muster.

Mikan knew she was about as threatening as a newborn fawn, especially to a powerful vampire like Junko, but Junko had the surprising decency to look a little sheepish. “Right, sorry.” Junko gave her an apologetic squeeze, nuzzling her cheek with a cold nose. “It’ll never happen again.”

Mikan doubted that, but honestly she wondered whose self-control would wane first to cause the next undeniable circumstance. Junko loved to feed, loved the control she gained and the fear she inspired, and often indulged herself to the point of bursting, but Mikan would be lying if she said she didn’t crave Junko’s fangs in her like a drug.

She didn’t know how to describe how it felt, there were too many overwhelming sensations to describe, but it was addicting—perhaps just as much to her as it was to Junko. That would probably sound ludicrous to someone who had never been bitten by a vampire before, to someone who couldn’t fathom experiencing pleasure from pain, but it was the truth.

That addiction made it dangerous, though. Not that she was scared of Junko actually hurting her, Mikan knew Junko wouldn’t do that, she was gentle and careful, but losing so much blood too often could affect her health and her work. But just because her mind knew Junko couldn’t feed from her all the time didn’t mean her body didn’t desire it.

She constantly yearned for any form of Junko’s affection but the intimacy of being bit by her was something Mikan wished she could experience all the time; however, experiencing that euphoria too often would be taxing if her body wasn’t up to par. But she felt good today, strong from her meal and from not being bit yesterday, so Junko should be able to feed from her plenty.

It was ridiculous, even selfish, that Junko consumed this much blood, but Mikan would always willingly give it. She loved being useful to Junko.

Loved taking care of her.

“O-okay.”

Mikan manoeuvred from Junko’s hold and stood from the bed. She moved to the hardwood floor where blood could easily be cleaned if Junko decided to be messy. She shed her sweater, revealing the scoop collared shirt underneath that allowed easy access of Junko’s targeted area.

“I-I’m ready,” Mikan said, taking a deep breath. “You can s-start the procedure w-whenever you want.”

Junko’s high-pitched laughter flooded the room. “Don’t make this sound like a boring medical exam. After all, it’s so much better when both of us are having fun.”

Junko stood and slowly unbuttoned her blazer, a devious grin bisecting her face.

“So let’s get that blood pumping, shall we?”

The garment crumpled to the floor and Mikan stared wide-eyed at the generous amount of porcelain skin suddenly on display, with full breasts nearly spilling out of Junko’s bra.

“J-Junko, w-what are you—”

Mikan squeaked as Junko approached her with purposeful sways of her hips, short skirt hiking up her thighs. Mikan swallowed, retreating until there were no steps left to take. Junko crept forward until her soft and very prominent chest was flush against Mikan’s, trapping her against the wall. Sharp, predatory eyes that glowed like blue fire stared through her, setting her ablaze from the inside out.

Junko leaned down, lips brushing against Mikan’s ear. “Sounds like someone’s heart is beating pretty fast right now.”

Mikan didn’t notice until just then but she was already panting, struggling to catch her breath as if the room had filled with smoke. Junko traced slow, tantalizing circles with an acrylic nail at the skin over Mikan’s thundering heart. Mikan shuddered, highly attuned to everywhere Junko was touching her and indifferent to anything else.

Why would anything else matter when Junko was touching her?

Junko hummed, sounding amused and seductive, and the vibration sunk deep into Mikan’s brain. “Like it’s about to beat out of your chest,” Junko added before shifting downwards to press her lips over the furiously pumping organ in question. The rise and fall of Mikan’s chest was obvious and heavy, each cool stamp of lipstick on her hot skin drawing out a fresh pant, and Mikan roughly bit her lip to try and conceal her noises.

“Don’t bite too hard,” Junko said, her honeyed voice filling Mikan’s ears until every other sound was bitter and muted. “You might make yourself bleed.” Junko grinned, eyes lidded. “That’s my job.”

Junko swooped up and kissed her, gently at first, but it soon became rougher as Junko’s tongue pushed past her lips and devoured her mouth. Mikan moaned, blood flowing like magma in her veins as she reached up to stabilize herself with Junko’s shoulders, shuddering at each caress from Junko’s tongue on her own.

When Junko pulled back Mikan felt her whole body throb at the sight of those gleaming, elongated fangs. So lethal. So carnal.

She wanted them inside her.

Junko kissed and licked all over Mikan’s neck, preparing her meal. She nibbled gently, playfully, before pressing the tips of her fangs to Mikan’s neck. It wasn’t enough to pierce, but it was something Junko did every time to warn her of what was about to happen. If Mikan wanted to back out, she knew this was her last chance. Even if Junko was starving or had been looking forward to this all day, Mikan knew Junko would stop if Mikan asked her to.

Mikan needed this. She needed this. She needed Junko to take her.

“ _Please_ ,” Mikan begged breathlessly. One hand dug into Junko’s shoulder while the other wrapped around Junko’s head, tugging Junko closer to her neck. “I’m _yours_ , m-my beloved.”

Junko growled possessively—a lecherous heat flooded Mikan’s lower abdomen—and bit down, the full length of those fangs puncturing Mikan’s throat. Mikan groaned, sharp pain shooting through her, gripping a tight handful of Junko’s hair. She squirmed, survival instinct trying to make her escape the pain, but Junko’s hold was strong as iron, keeping her still as if she were shackled in place.

Very soon that pain morphed to pleasure, like aphrodisiacs were entering her bloodstream from Junko’s teeth. Junko growled once more and slipped a thigh between hers and Mikan gasped, warmth spiking at her core. Junko was all around her, consuming her, making every inch of her body feel like bliss; making every inch of her bedroom disappear until it felt like she was flying up in space with Junko. No oxygen or gravity or cares in the world. Just the two of them intimately together.

Being so high meant she had no use for legs and Mikan quickly lost feeling in both, only remaining upright thanks to Junko’s immovable grip. Mikan’s full weight slumped against her, unable to do anything but moan softly as Junko continued to feed.

A few gulps later and Junko’s fangs shortened but she continued gently licking at the wound she caused. Mikan sighed as she returned to reality, trembling under Junko’s aftercare. She wrapped her lead-heavy arms around Junko’s neck, wanting to stay as close to her as possible.

“Are you okay?” Junko asked in a soft tone Mikan knew no one else would ever hear, continuing to clean and heal the bite. “Was that too much?”

She was so sweet. It could never be too much. Mikan only ever wanted more.

“Don’t f-feed from other p-people anymore,” Mikan murmured, squeezing Junko tight, relishing the dull ache in her neck and the tiredness in her bones. “Only feed from m-me. You can r-restrain yourself for a few days at a time, c-can’t you?”

The kisses pressed to her collar were affectionate but the smirk Mikan received was smug.

“So you _were_ jealous.”

Mikan looked away, cheeks scorching. She didn’t want to say it. She knew Junko had known from the beginning.

“Hmmm.” Junko tapped a finger to her chin, pretending to think about it. “I suppose I’m satisfied for now.” Those blue eyes gleamed mischievously and Junko suddenly reached between Mikan’s legs. “But you’re not, are you?”

A shameless moan tore from Mikan’s throat, pleasure and love and Junko the only things on her hazy mind, thighs quaking as those long, expert fingers teased at her damp underwear. Mikan spread her legs further and grinded down, whining from the lack of friction. She needed Junko inside her again; she would die without Junko inside her; she never wanted Junko anywhere else. She whimpered and tugged at Junko’s hair, her yearning and desperation earning a pleased, red-toothed grin from Junko, and the sight of her essence dripping from Junko’s mouth only made Mikan’s body burn hotter.

“Weeeeell,” Junko drawled, smirking into Mikan’s neck and swiping the tip of her tongue once more over Mikan’s bite, “I guess I don’t mind eating something else for awhile.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! If you enjoyed and want to see more drabbles please let me know! :)


	11. Courage to Confess

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mikan tries to gather the courage to ask out Junko.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been working on another Junkan oneshot which is why I haven't updated this (or my other fic) sooner, so I hope y'all look forward to that. And in the meantime, please enjoy this drabble!

Mikan Tsumiki had been trying to gather the courage to ask out Junko Enoshima for a long time.

Every day she woke up and told herself today was the day. Today she would ask her out.

Things never progressed that smoothly, of course.

Mikan was too scared and too shy. She was a mess of a person, barely able to speak a full sentence to people she knew let alone people she only knew at a distance. Alternatively, Junko was boisterous and charismatic and witty and confident. She commanded the room whenever she walked in. Everyone wanted to be with her in some way or another and she was completely out of Mikan’s league. Mikan knew she didn’t stand a chance. Why would someone like Junko ever be interested in someone like her?

She knew it was foolish to hope but she couldn’t help it.

Mikan tried to approach her on several occasions but every time Mikan caught sight of those sharp blue eyes and knowing smirk her legs would freeze, anxious butterflies dancing in her belly—and the freezing happened on the good days. On the bad ones Mikan tripped and flashed her entire class, scurrying away before Junko could get a good look and identify her. And even if Mikan did manage to approach Junko she had no idea what she would say—or if she would even remember how to speak.

Everything about Junko’s presence overwhelmed her. It was an honour just to go to the same school as her. To hear the telltale click of her heels down the hall. To get a whiff of her perfume when she walked by.

But Mikan wanted to know her. Wanted to be close to her. Wanted to know what made her smile when no one was looking.

Wanted to make her smile for everyone to see.

But every day the tiny gathered fragments of Mikan’s courage would vanish as soon as those blonde pigtails bounced into view. Her shyness would overcome her like a tidal wave and she would hide her face in her locker as Junko walked by at the end of the day. Mikan would smile sadly, disappointed in herself but not surprised, as she watched Junko leave school, cherishing those last few seconds she got to see Junko until tomorrow. She would listen intently until those clicking heels faded to a memorized pattern that would echo in her eardrums for a few moments longer; the beat to her favourite song that would fade in again the next morning accompanied by beautifully voiced lyrics.

Today wasn’t the day.

She tried not to let it get her down. She would try again tomorrow.

Mikan woke up refreshed the next day, ready to try again. She even arrived to school early in case she was lucky enough to catch Junko in the halls when barely anyone else was there.

She had never been lucky.

So Mikan tried to catch her between morning classes. Then at lunch. Then between afternoon classes. But Junko was either with someone or looked like she was in a hurry—and, if Mikan were honest with herself, she just lost her nerve every time. And all too quickly, like always, the end of the day rolled around and Mikan was just as successful as every day before.

This was never shocking, but each failure was more disappointing than the last. She couldn’t even give Junko a simple greeting. How could she believe she was even slightly capable of asking her out?

Just as Mikan reached for the door to the nurse’s office to lock up and leave, the door swung open and Mikan crashed into another person, sending them both to the floor. Mikan groaned, disoriented from the fall, rubbing at her head. She opened her mouth to start apologizing because obviously, like everything, this was her fault, but the intoxicating smell of a familiar perfume gave her pause and—

“Wow,” a chuckle, “who knew this type of thing actually happened in real life.”

Mikan was stunned silent at that recognizable voice, those beautiful lyrics, those glossy pink lips that hovered dangerously close. Mikan was suddenly very aware of the weight sandwiching her to the floor; the warm bumps and curves pressing against her body.

Junko had fallen on top of her.

Just as Mikan thought she may hyperventilate, a large grin broke out on Junko’s face. “Your tits just saved me from a broken jaw. You been hiding these puppies this whole time?” She cackled. “This is the most interesting thing to happen to me all day.” Junko shifted off Mikan and stood, holding out her right hand, then seemed to consider something before holding out her left instead. “So thanks for curing my boredom, Mikan.”

Mikan stared dumbfounded at the offered hand for way too long before lifting her own. Junko’s grip was stronger than her thin frame suggested, hoisting Mikan to her feet no problem. Warmth lingered on Mikan’s palm after Junko let go.

Then something clicked in Mikan’s brain.

“You know my n-name?” Mikan blurted.

Junko tilted her head. “Is that surprising?”

Of course it was. They weren’t in the same year. They didn’t share any classes. They had never even spoken before.

But Junko still knew her somehow. Maybe because she helped out in the nurse’s office? Or did Junko see her trip one time and learn of her clumsy reputation?

“A-anyways, what b-brings you here, Junko?” Mikan asked, desperate to shift the focus away from herself. It took all her effort just to form words. “I-I was just about to lock up.”

Junko thrust out her right arm. “You got a compression bandage here?”

“Wh—”

“Dumb question, I know you do. If my wrist could talk it would be telling me to go fuck myself so I think I sprained it.”

“J-just now?” Mikan’s chest spiked with anxiety. “Oh god I’m s-so sorry, t-this is all my—”

“No, not now. Relax, girl. It was back in gym class when some ho slammed into me.”

“O-oh. Okay.” Mikan sighed, heart pounding. That made more sense. That was probably why Junko came here in the first place. “Um, l-let me wrap it for you.”

Something in Junko’s eyes shifted. “I can do it myself.”

Mikan squeaked. “I’m s-sorry, I-I didn’t mean to imply that you c-couldn’t! Just,” Mikan wrung her hands together, “I-I’m a nurse. A-and I would l-love to help.”

Junko stared blankly at her for a few moments before her expression melted back into something cheerful and welcoming. “Aww, even a hardcore bitch like me can’t say no to that face. I’ll be in your care, then.” Junko wiggled her eyebrows with a lidded, icy stare. “Tie me up nice and tight, okay?”

Why did she have to say it like that?

After procuring the bandage from a drawer Mikan wrapped up Junko’s wrist in silence—not that Mikan could confirm the silence with her heart thundering in her ears. Junko’s skin was soft and smooth. Rather than just a whiff of Junko’s perfume she would normally get when Junko passed her in the halls, Mikan was now consumed by it like fog.

It took everything in her to keep her hands from shaking as she finished wrapping the bandage.

Junko flexed her hand, staring down at her wrist. “This is totes a better job than I would have done. Thanks, Mikan. I’m glad I ran into you.” Junko giggled. “ _Literally_.”

Heat spread up Mikan’s neck. She hadn’t forgotten about that. She’d never forget about that. She’d never forget about any of this.

But if she couldn’t think of something else to say then this moment would be over. Junko had no further reason to stay here with her unless Mikan gave her a reason. Mikan wanted her to stay. She couldn’t let this moment be over yet.

Now was the time. When would she ever get another opportunity like this?

“J-Junko, I...”

“Hmm?” Those big blue eyes were kind and curious. “What is it?”

“I...” Mikan sighed, feeling her courage leave her once again. “No, n-nevermind.”

“Aww, don’t tease me like that!” Junko pouted, crossing her arms. “Getting me all excited just to leave me out to dry. How despairing.”

“It’s... it’s nothing important.”

“I doubt that. Just look at this cute frown you got.” Junko thumbed at the growing crease in Mikan’s brow, making Mikan blush. “It wouldn’t be bothering you this much if it weren’t important.”

Mikan glanced away. “I... don’t know h-how to tell you.”

“Just say whatever’s on your mind, even if it’s gibberish. Would be a fun game trying to figure that out. Could make charades out of it.” Junko snapped her fingers. “Wait, no, _hangman_ , that’s a way better idea. I’m a genius. Tell me I’m a genius.”

“U-um. You’re a g-genius.”

“I know, right? God, I love hangman. It’s so fucked when you think about it, fucking punishing some rando ‘cause you can’t guess a word.” Junko cackled wildly, stunning Mikan silent for perhaps the thousandth time that afternoon. “Think of the phrase that’s on your mind Mikan while I go find someone to hang. Can’t be Mukuro. She’ll see the rope and remember elementary school and pull the fire alarm or some shit. What about that punk friend of yours?”

That was not how that game worked. What exactly was Junko talking about? Probably best if Mikan didn’t know. Even better if she wiped this part of their conversation from her mind entirely.

“I-I’m... I’m not good with s-stuff like that,” Mikan admitted quietly, eyes downcast. She gripped her skirt with shaky fingers. “I’m not good w-with explaining what’s on my mind. No one really w-wants to listen to me, n-not that I blame them. I’d just em-embarrass myself.”

“I’ll listen,” Junko said, tone much gentler than before. “Feelings are meant to be shared, aren’t they?”

Mikan’s eyes widened. She... wasn’t wrong, but Mikan definitely didn’t expect her to say that. Mikan never had someone she felt safe sharing her feelings with. She’d been struggling with this for so long but Junko made it seem effortless; like over-thinking had been Mikan’s real obstacle rather than other people or societal expectations.

Junko gave an easy, knowing smile. “Why don’t you try again tomorrow?”

“Huh? T-tomorrow?”

“Yeah. I’ll be here. Probably.” She shook her head. “Scratch that, I’ll make sure I’m here. You’ve got me way too curious to skip school. I’ll be thinking about you all night. How clever, using reverse psychology on me like that!” Junko slapped Mikan on the back with her good hand, making a gasp burst from Mikan’s mouth. “You’re so interesting, Mikan.”

“I-I am?”

Junko giggled. “Funny, too.” Junko hopped off the medical cot, heels clacking on the floor. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Don’t you dare leave me hanging, okay?”

Mikan hastily stood, chair legs squeaking as it was forcefully pushed back. Her heart was beating way too fast. This couldn’t be real. “W-when tomorrow works b-best for you? S-should it be after school, o-or...”

Junko winked as she stepped past her, lips dangerously close to her ear and Mikan shivered as hot breath spilled over her neck.

“Surprise me.”

Just like every previous attempt, Mikan watched Junko leave school without her. She listened to the beat of those receding heels. She failed to ask her out once again.

Today wasn’t the day.

But this day, unlike every previous attempt, Junko looked back with a smile.

That made this day the best so far. And Mikan, more courageous than ever, felt confident about tomorrow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading, I really appreciate it! :)


	12. Insecurities

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mikan always thought she deserved to be alone. Even after all this time, she can't believe Junko asked her out.

Even after all this time Mikan had to convince herself that yes, she wasn’t dreaming, and yes, she was really spending time with her high school sweetheart Junko Enoshima, and yes, that was something she was allowed to enjoy just like every other couple in the world.

They sat cuddled on their bed, Mikan positioned snugly between Junko’s legs with her back to Junko’s soft front. The room was comfortably silent as they both did their own thing; Mikan reading a book and Junko scrolling her social media. Mikan was slightly distracted by Junko’s closeness, though she didn’t mind, glancing up whenever a pretty picture from Junko’s phone caught her eye. She also watched when Junko hastily typed a paragraph, acrylic nails clacking against the screen, no doubt starting a needless argument with some poor, uneducated soul on Tumblr again.

The little snicker next to her ear signalled Junko was satisfied and back to her endless scrolling.

Mikan sighed, snuggling further into Junko who also wordlessly pressed closer. She couldn’t think of a more peaceful way to spend her evening.

And yet, despite this peace, her mind was racing. Her brain was a tornado of white noise and self-deprecating comments, sometimes in her own voice and other times in the voices of the vaguely familiar, and this mess in her head only grew more frantic as time rolled on. She read the same sentence of her book over and over again until she couldn’t read the words at all; until they became scrambled, indecipherable hieroglyphics on a musty page.

She was spending time with Junko. She should be enjoying this. Why wasn’t she enjoying this?

“You’ve been on that page for like ten minutes,” Junko said, continuing to scroll on her phone like she didn’t say anything. Of course she noticed. Nothing got past those analytical eyes. “Whatcha thinkin’ about, Hot Stuff?”

Mikan’s cheeks heated from the pet name. “I-I just... never thought I would have this.”

“Have what?”

“ _This_ ,” Mikan clarified, gesturing to them both. “ _You_. J-just getting to relax with you and do normal things couples do, e-even doing separate things together.” She sighed, lowering her book. “Every night growing up I’d sit a-alone on my bed and my brain would constantly tell me that I’d a-always be alone. That I d-deserved to be alone.”

Junko’s thumb stilled and she was quiet for a moment. “Do you still feel that way?”

Mikan chewed her lip, glancing nervously around the room as if Junko could see her face. “I...”

A shift in weight behind her. “I can leave if you want.”

“W-what?” The reply was instantaneous, nearly a shout, and she gripped Junko’s leg in a panic. “No!”

Junko chuckled, pressing a kiss to the back of Mikan’s head. “See? No matter what that fucked up brain of yours tells you, definitely sounds like you don’t want to be alone.”

“W-what I want and what I deserve are two different things.”

“They don’t have to be.”

Junko sounded so sure of that, like it should be obvious, but Mikan knew Junko’s logic and thought process was quite unlike her own.

“T-they are, though,” Mikan replied, voice weak in her throat.

“And who decided that? That meanie brain of yours?” A click of a tongue. “Imma go ahead and call bullshit.”

Mikan’s shoulders hunched up, fighting the urge to curl into a ball. She didn’t plan on this conversation veering in this direction and she felt minuscule under Junko’s boisterous confidence. “I-it’s complicated,” she muttered.

She couldn’t see the roll of Junko’s eyes but she certainly sensed it.

“You say that like I’m not the most complicated person on this fucking trash-heap of a planet.” Mikan felt Junko press her face into her hair. “Lay it on me. Let me pick apart that brain of yours.”

Mikan sighed. Sharing her insecurities made her nervous but she knew Junko wouldn’t back down now; Junko never backed down until she got what she wanted. “My parents told me no one would e-ever love me,” she said, chest tight from painful memories. “That I-I was a mistake. That I was a burden to e-everyone around me. That I’d be alone f-forever.”

A dry chuckle and a supportive stroke on her arm. “They sound like lovely people.”

Mikan grimaced. “A-all my bullies said those things, too. When that’s a-all you hear people say... well,” she shrugged, “you believe them.”

Junko hummed in her ear, sounding curious rather than pitying. “Then why’d you say yes when I asked you out?”

Mikan thought back to that day in high school, could still picture teenage Junko’s bright eyes and even brighter smile with crystal clarity, and winced despite the beautiful image. “Honestly I th-thought you were joking.”

A high-pitched bark of genuine laughter and Mikan’s ears rung. “You thought I was _joking_?”

Mikan whined, lightly slapping Junko’s leg, but that only resulted in more laughter. “C-can you blame me? The most p-popular girl in school asks out an ugly nobody l-like me, outing herself to the w-whole school in the process. What was I s-supposed to think?”

“Uh, that I thought you were smokin’ and wanted to skip class to bang you in the bathroom?”

Mikan spluttered, cheeks flaring. “J-just because that eventually happened d-doesn’t mean I ever expected it to happen.” She sighed again. “I-I thought the whole thing was a prank. The rest of the week I was w-waiting for people to start laughing at me, o-or for you to break up with me on video or something.”

“Damn, was that the impression I gave off?”

“Junko, you l-literally bullied the principal so bad he quit his job.”

Junko snickered, clearly unashamed. “I remember that. What a time. And the school was much better off for it.” She squeezed Mikan’s arm. “But you still thought I was hot, right? If anything I’d say that made me hotter.”

Mikan pressed back into Junko’s warmth. “I-I was in love with you long before you asked me out. N-nothing you did could’ve changed that. But it was only afterwards that I ever had h-hope you might like me, too. T-that’s what made it scary.”

“Oh? Shouldn’t that have been less scary?”

Mikan shook her head. “It didn’t f-feel real. Before then I never let myself hope that you liked me. W-why set myself up for disappointment? Loving you from the sidelines was simple. I-I could handle that. But after we started dating it felt like I was d-deluding myself into thinking you liked me. Or that it was all just a dream or something. Because how could s-someone like you be interested in someone l-like me?”

Junko was quiet, probably contemplating and waiting for Mikan to continue. Mikan inhaled a shaky breath, heart pounding in her ears.

“I-I thought you would leave me within the week. T-then the month. But then y-years went by, and—”

“And I never left.”

Mikan smiled, resting a hand over Junko’s. “And you never left.”

“But you’re still worried I will, aren’t you?”

Mikan tensed, anxiety coiling low in her gut. Junko could read her way too well. “I-I’m sorry. I-I don’t want it to seem like I don’t t-trust you, because I do! I’m just used to everyone leaving. It’s like I c-can’t relax because in the back of my brain there’s this v-voice saying you’ll leave and that I’ll deserve it. S-some days it’s quiet, but most days it tells me I d-don’t deserve you.”

A small pause. “Then I guess I’ll have to be louder than that voice, huh?”

Junko took a deep breath and then, in a fast, booming tone—

“Mikan you’re so pretty and cute and talented and wonderful and thoughtful and your bullies don’t know shit and your parents can suck my nuts and you deserve love and I love the shit out of you!”

Junko pressed multiple exaggerated kisses to Mikan’s neck and cheek. Mikan giggled, squirming under Junko’s relentless, and appreciated, affection.

Junko threw her phone aside and fastened her arms taut to Mikan’s waist, giving a tender squeeze. “Even if for some fucked up reason you didn’t deserve love, I’d still give it to you anyway.”

Mikan chewed her lip, glancing down at the arms holding her tight. “W-why?”

“Why?” A chuckle. “Because I want to. And to me, you’d deserve it no matter what. Fuck what anyone else says, right?”

Mikan’s heart pounded in her chest, those words nestling deep in her bones. Junko’s voice was definitely kinder than the voice in her head. Perhaps she could learn to believe in this voice more until her own became kinder, too.

“Now c’mon.” Junko rested her chin on Mikan’s shoulder. “Read to me.”

Mikan had to remember how to speak after how much breath Junko just stole from her. “B-but I’m halfway through this book. Y-you won’t know what’s happening.”

“I’ll get to listen to your voice.”

Mikan blushed, biting her lip.

She felt Junko smirk against her neck. “Yeah, that was smooth, wasn’t it?”

Her cheeks grew even hotter. Junko truly could read her too well. “W-what about your Tumblr arguments?”

“Those can happen literally anytime. No shortage of dumbasses there.” Junko squeezed her. “This is totes more important.”

Junko grabbed Mikan’s trembling hands and helped her lift the book.

“Flip the page, Hot Stuff. Let’s find out what’s next together.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Speaking of Tumblr, my username on there is the same as here, so if any of you want to chat about my fics or Junkan or Danganronpa in general feel free to hit me up!


	13. Party

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mikan doesn't like parties, but she meets someone there that maybe changes her mind.

Mikan had no idea why she was here.

One of Ibuki’s musician friends—Sayaka, she believed—was throwing a house party. Parties were absolutely not Mikan’s thing, especially if she didn’t know most of the people there, but Ibuki dragged her there anyway, saying some social interaction would be good for her.

Ibuki’s intentions were good, Mikan knew that, but very quickly after they arrived Ibuki wandered over to Sayaka, leaving Mikan alone in a house she was unfamiliar with and surrounded by bunches of loud people swearing and drinking.

Mikan snuck away from the crowd and claimed the free couch in the living room—the room itself unoccupied as many guests were refilling in the kitchen or jumping in the pool outside—curling up in the corner and opening a mindless game on her phone. She didn’t want to be here but she would feel rude if she left without telling Ibuki, and leaving so early would probably make Ibuki disappointed in her.

It wasn’t that Mikan didn’t want to make new friends but parties were intimidating, everyone here was intimidating, and she just wanted to be al—

“Whatcha doin’ here all alone?”

Mikan looked up to see an absolutely stunning woman with blonde pigtails, ice blue eyes and a black and red outfit that showed generous amounts of thigh and cleavage. Her blood red acrylic nails drummed against the half finished bottle in her hand.

Mikan gulped, mouth suddenly dry. “I just... n-needed a break.”

The strange girl plopped down next to Mikan, sitting closer than Mikan was comfortable with.

“I get you, girl.” She gestured with an unbalanced wave of her arm in the direction of the other partygoers. “Sometimes you just gotta give these assholes the middle finger and do your own thing.”

She took a long swig of her drink, a drop spilling past her lips and trailing down her neck, and Mikan would be lying if she said she didn’t watch that droplet dip in the valley of this woman’s massive chest.

Then Mikan shook her head, fighting off a blush. Way to be a creep to someone she just met. No wonder Ibuki was her only friend.

“Y-you look like you fit right in here,” Mikan said. This girl’s looks, her attitude, the way she spoke; she definitely seemed like someone who commanded the attention of everyone in the room. The life of the party. So why would someone like this even bother speaking to a wallflower like Mikan? “W-why aren’t you partying with your friends?”

Her pigtails drooped as her head lolled to the side, glazed blue eyes staring unfocused into Mikan’s. “What... what do you mean?” she slurred.

Oh boy, this girl was beyond drunk. Maybe that’s why she was so friendly.

“You could be having fun with everyone,” Mikan said, trying to speak clearly so this girl could understand her. “I-I’m no fun at all. S-so why are you here with me?”

“You’re at a party.” Those blue eyes looked wistful for a moment. “No one should be lonely at parties.”

“I wasn’t even p-planning to come here,” Mikan argued, immediately feeling guilty for getting a little defensive. “M-my friend dragged me.”

“And then abandoned you?” The girl scoffed, slamming her empty bottle down on the coffee table. “What a bitch.”

“It’s n-not like that!” Mikan objected, waving her hands. “S-she’s just so much more extroverted than me and fits right in at parties and is c-close friends with the hostess and I’d only s-sour her mood and—”

High pitched giggles cut her off. “You’re so funny.”

Mikan was taken aback. “I-I am?”

More giggles, melodic and addictive, and Mikan already wanted to hear more. “I’m Junko,” the girl introduced, fluttering her dark, false lashes. “What’s your name?”

What... what was her name again?

Oh, right.

“M-Mikan.” She barely managed to push that from her throat.

An acrylic nail tapped her lips. “You’ve got a pretty name, Mikan.”

Mikan froze, eyes going wide, blood pooling in her cheeks.

“Hell yeah, made you blush!” Junko giggled again. “Y’know,” her body swayed back and forth, brushing Mikan’s side every time, “all these sluts here keep telling me I lost my charm but joke’s on them, even after all these years I’m still a bossass bitch with the ladies and now I’m winning over the cutest—”

Junko abruptly stood, face white as a sheet.

“I’m gonna vom.”

She rushed off and Mikan scrambled from the couch, hurrying after her without thinking about it.

Junko burst into the bathroom and promptly stuck her head in the toilet, heaving up whatever she had eaten earlier. Mikan winced at the horrendous sounds and knelt beside her, holding back the rebellious blonde strands that scurried free of her pigtails.

After a few moments Junko looked up at her with watery eyes and a shaky smile. “Wow, you’re so nice. Even my sister doesn’t hold back my hair for me anymore.”

“W-why not?”

“I’m too much to handle.” Junko coughed, wiping at her mouth. “I know most people don’t want me at these parties.”

Mikan felt a sympathetic pang in her chest. Even the party girl didn’t feel like she belonged here. They had that in common, Mikan supposed.

“I-I just want to help.” Mikan took a cup from the bathroom counter and filled it with water from the sink, pushing it into Junko’s hand. “Stick with water for the rest of the night, okay? D-do you want me to stay with you?”

This was more up her alley than a party would ever be. Mikan didn’t know how to talk to people but she did know how to take care of them. She couldn’t force Junko to stop drinking, it was her choice if she wanted to keep partying, but Mikan kind of hoped Junko would want to keep her around regardless.

Junko gazed at her with a sudden intensity, like she hadn’t been puking her guts out for the last several minutes. “Let’s go somewhere more private.”

Mikan’s heart thudded against her ribs. Did that mean what she thought it did?

Junko didn’t wait for a response, gripping Mikan’s wrist and dragging her to an upstairs bedroom, slamming the door behind them.

This couldn’t be happening.

“We, uh, w-we probably sh-shouldn’t be in here,” Mikan said, stumbling over her words.

Junko didn’t reply and instead started walking towards her. Mikan gulped, backing up until her legs hit the edge of the bed. She gasped as Junko pushed her down, crawling on top of her. Mikan knew she should get away, she didn’t know this girl, not really, but god she was so beautiful and no one had ever looked at her like that before, like she was desirable, and that look froze her solid.

But this wasn’t right. Junko was intoxicated. Mikan had to stop this.

Those thoughts stilled in her brain as Junko leaned down and Mikan got a strong whiff of the alcohol clinging to Junko’s breath.

And the breath was promptly knocked from Mikan’s lungs a moment later not from an expected kiss, but from the sudden weight of Junko’s head flopping on her chest.

Mikan soon heard snores. Mikan stayed frozen like that for a few minutes, her mind whirling as she tried to process what happened.

Did Junko seriously just pass out as she was about to kiss her?

The door squeaked open. A head of wild, multi-coloured hair popped in.

“Mikan?”

“Ibuki?” Mikan frantically glanced between her and Junko, heat quickly rising in her cheeks. “I-I, um, this isn’t wh-what it looks like...”

Ibuki’s grin nearly split her face in half. “Yo, Sayaka!” Ibuki called down the hallway, disappearing from view. “Mikan’s getting busy with Junko in your bed!”

“What?” came a faint voice from further away. “Your really shy friend with _Junko_ of all people? That can’t be true. How high are you?”

Mikan moved to go after Ibuki but Junko snuggled deeper against her and suddenly all desire to move vanished.

Junko was... really warm.

Sayaka walked in and frowned, shaking her head at Ibuki.

“Ibuki, _look_ , they’re not banging. Junko passed out on top of the poor girl.” Sayaka looked sympathetically at Mikan. “Here, I’ll get her off you. This girl annoys everyone. I didn’t even invite her but she shows up every time anyway.”

“N-no, it’s okay!” The words burst free before Mikan even registered them. She took a deep breath to calm down and quieted her tone. “I’m... I’m okay with this.”

“Are you sure?” Sayaka asked, looking unconvinced. “No way you’re having fun right now.”

“I-I like taking care of people.” Mikan looked away sheepishly. “A-as long as you’re okay with us staying in y-your bed.”

Sayaka sighed. “If you’re sure. Don’t be afraid to shove her off if you want to move, though.” Sayaka turned away. “C’mon Ibuki, my parents room should be free.”

“Okay!” Ibuki looked at Mikan with big, shining eyes. “Tell Ibuki everything tomorrow!” She flashed a rock hand sign before closing the door behind her and Sayaka.

Mikan released a deep breath, only realizing now just how hard her heart was pounding, the loud thumps drowning out the muted music from downstairs.

She had no intention of shoving Junko off. Junko felt really nice and she had been kind to Mikan from the first word. After getting so drunk she definitely needed the sleep, and Mikan had offered to keep her company. Junko seemed so comfortable and peaceful resting on her, and if this were the best way Mikan could currently take care of her...

Hesitantly, Mikan wrapped her arms around her. Junko snuggled closer, snores like purrs against Mikan’s neck. Heat burst in Mikan’s chest and she couldn’t help but smile, hiding her warm face in Junko’s hair.

Maybe a party every once in awhile wouldn’t be so bad if they ended like this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! If you enjoyed please let me know :)


	14. Zombie AU (Part 2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “What? It’s the end of the world. Let me live a little.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a sequel to Chapter 3 of this drabble collection titled "Zombie AU" so please read that first for this drabble to have its full effect. The same warnings for that drabble apply here.

A rattle of chains overpowered by two pairs of footsteps on concrete keeping a steady pace under the merciless sun. It had been a stressful journey so far, especially brutal from the temperature today, but if they kept up this pace they’d reach their long-awaited destination by nightfall.

Then echoed the stomp of a foot and a whiny groan dragged behind them like a rusty anchor.

“My poor _nails_.”

Mikan looked to her frustrated companion with a furrowed brow. “I-I’m sorry they got ruined, Junko.”

Junko shrugged. “Couldn’t be helped, I guess. Surprised they lasted this long considering how many walkers I sliced to itty bitty pieces.” She sighed. “I miss them, though. How despairing.”

Mikan gazed at her wistfully. “Me, too.”

An amused glint crossed Junko’s eyes. “Oh, I’m sure you do.”

Mikan spluttered, nearly stumbling, and chains rattled.

“W-what does that mean?”

“You know exactly what it means.”

Heat pooled in Mikan’s cheeks. “You’re t-teasing me again, a-aren’t you?”

Junko chuckled. “You make it so easy.”

Mikan whimpered, her blush reaching the tips of her ears. Junko was always like this. Never a dull moment with her, nor did Mikan’s poor, throbbing heart ever catch a break.

“And my _hair_!” Junko groaned, shaking her head to rid the strands from her eyes. “People think the worst thing about the apocalypse is the lack of food and shelter. Nah, man. Showers. Shampoo. Conditioner. My hair’s all thin and greasy now and I smell like a fucking dumpster.” She huffed strongly as if she could breathe fire. “This _sucks_.”

“You’re still b-beautiful to me,” Mikan murmured, gazing lovingly at Junko; at this chaotic, uncontrollable, incredible woman who made this straining apocalyptic life worth living. “You’ll a-always be beautiful to me.”

It was quiet for a moment and Mikan thought she said the wrong thing, she always said wrong things, but then Junko gave her an affectionate, and devilish, leer.

“Well don’t _you_ know how to make a girl feel good. You sure you weren’t drowning in pussy before this whole thing started?”

Mikan spluttered again. “I-I think I’d remember something that, um, s-significant.”

“Just saying! Not that it matters anymore I guess, now that you have mine to drown in.”

“Junko!” Mikan gasped, cheeks burning both from the words and the late night memories.

“What? It’s the end of the world. Let me live a little.”

Junko laughed, bumping Mikan with her hip. Mikan hid her face but couldn’t help but smile from Junko’s playfulness and infectious laughter.

They walked the path together for awhile, just enjoying the silence and the wind whistling through the trees. It was rare moments like this that made it seem like the world hadn’t ended. Like they were just going for a peaceful stroll in the woods. Like they were on a date, even.

Mikan wished she could’ve dated Junko before all this. How wonderful a real date with her would have been. How wonderful living with her would have been rather than just surviving.

A rattle of chains and they came to a halt.

A large bridge crossed the river and a horde was smack dab in the middle. Easily the worst place a group of walkers could have gathered considering their destination lay on the opposite side.

But they had made it through worse tribulations before. They could do this.

“We just have to be q-quiet and walk slow,” Mikan advised. “No vulgar comments or surprise attacks, o-okay Junko?”

“What,” a dry chuckle, “you want us to shove right through them like we’re in a school hallway?”

“This bridge is the only way across. W-we don’t have a choice. If we w-want to reach Mukuro we need to get past them.” Mikan gestured to the dark blood and viscera staining her outfit. “I’m still covered in walker guts from e-earlier so they shouldn’t notice me. If we’re quiet we s-should be able to sneak our way through.”

“Ugh, so hopeful,” Junko groaned. “ _Fine_. Stay close to me, okay?” Her features softened just a touch. “I’ll protect you.”

Mikan gazed at her, the warmth in her chest spilling outwards as a murmur, “You always do.”

That sweet moment lasted all of five seconds before Junko spoke again.

“Don’t trip, though. Then your clumsy ass is on your own.”

“J-Junko, don’t j-jinx me like that!” Mikan whimpered. “H-hopefully there’s nothing for me to trip on.”

“Oh please,” a harsh wheeze, “I’ve seen you trip over nothing _countless_ times.”

Mikan pouted, more embarrassed than offended. “T-thanks for the confidence boost.”

Junko winked. “That’s why you keep me around.”

They leisurely manoeuvred through the horde. Junko stayed close to her as promised, towering high above, glaring as if that would intimidate the walkers away. Mikan followed her lead, taking careful steps, swaying her body like she was one of them. A few glanced her way but none of them reached.

One bumped into Junko. Mikan chomped her lip, barely containing a fearful cry, but Junko remained perfectly calm, acting like she didn’t even feel it. And they continued on like nothing happened.

It felt like it took an hour to swim through the sea of rotting corpses and even once they were off the bridge and away from immediate danger Mikan felt like her heart was about to burst from her chest. Her knees shook and she leaned against Junko’s frighteningly thin frame for a moment to gather herself.

Eventually Mikan released a breath, stepping away from Junko. Chains rattled.

“W-we’re safe!” she exclaimed, a smile stretching her lips.

Junko nodded with a strange look that hurt Mikan’s heart for a reason she couldn’t quite place. “Yeah,” Junko said, voice nearly lost in the breeze. “We’re safe.”

The golden hour was prominent before they came across civilization, in particular a small settlement with a high, and well guarded, metal gate. A black haired girl with a rifle stood at the top.

“Mukuro!” Mikan waved up to her and Mukuro gazed at them in shock, quickly disappearing behind the wall. “Oh, Junko, we f-finally made it!”

Junko glanced away, not seeming as excited. “I mean, we could still turn back—”

Mikan tugged and Junko faced her again with a wince. “T-this has been our destination this whole time. At least pretend you’re h-happy to see her.” She stroked Junko’s shoulder, cold despite the heat. “I’m sure she’s r-really missed you.”

The gate creaked open and Mukuro rushed towards them.

But Mikan couldn’t even get out a greeting before Mukuro’s expression dropped in horror, and in the next moment she was on her knees with tears cascading down her cheeks.

“Oh, Junko, _no_ ,” Mukuro sobbed, sounding so unlike the monotone soldier Mikan was acquainted with years ago. “My baby sister... I failed you...”

“Ah shit, I knew this would happen,” Junko said, staring down at Mukuro. “Just let her have her moment, Mikan. She might not talk to you the rest of the night so, y’know, warning.”

But Mikan was confused. Why would Junko say something like that? Why did Mukuro need a moment to begin with?

“What’s wrong? W-why are you crying?” Mikan asked. “Junko’s fine. She’s right here.” Mikan giggled. “If you have running water I’m sure she’d a-appreciate a shower, though.”

“You’re not wrong.” Junko gave her a sly look. “Maybe we could take one together.”

“J-Junko!” Mikan’s cheeks flared, glancing at Mukuro bashfully. “D-don’t say that in front of your sister!”

A flurry of emotions crossed Mukuro’s face in only a few seconds, but not ones Mikan expected. First disbelief, then anger, then understanding, then pity.

And when Mukuro finally spoke, her voice was quiet but firm.

“That’s not Junko anymore.”

The sun fell beneath the horizon. Darkness began to spread.

Mikan’s smile cracked.

“W-what are you talking about?” Mikan turned to face Junko, to admire her everlasting beauty despite the thinning hair, loss of nails and cold, sickly skin; to stare into those blue eyes that never cried since Mikan had known her. “She’s right...”

Eyes that... did cry... once...

“... here...”

A thunderstorm. A rickety cottage in the depths of the woods. The scent of blood. A hand tight in her hair. Heavy breathing. Sweaty skin. Warm lips.

A choice she couldn’t make. A crude proposal of a coin toss.

A sad smile and a single tear.

_“You’ll take care of me until I die, won’t you?”_

Mikan blinked and saw Junko. Really saw her.

Cloudy eyes that were no longer blue, never blinked, and would never cry again. Thinning hair that lost its shine from decay, not a lack of shampoo. No more nails not because they were cracked or fell out, but because Mikan cut off her arms to avoid being grabbed. No more smiles or kissable lips, as Mikan removed her jaw to avoid being bit.

Chains were wrapped around Junko’s neck.

Mikan’s hand shook, and they rattled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! This may have been my favourite one to write out of them all. I loved playing around with the foreshadowing and with Mikan's mindset; with what was real and what wasn't. If you enjoyed please let me know! :)


	15. Near Death

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I-I’m in despair, Junko, s-see?” Mikan’s forced smile wobbled as much as her voice. “I’m feeling that d-despair you love so much. But y-you need to open your eyes if you w-want to see it.” She heaved a broken sob, losing her smile. “S-so it’s time to stop this and wake up, o-okay?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Potential trigger warning for near death experiences.

Junko wasn’t breathing.

It all happened so quickly Mikan wouldn’t be able to explain the details if she were asked.

And no one would ask. No one was there.

Just her, breathing frantically, and Junko, not breathing at all.

She took too long, way too long, to react—so stupid, so _useless_ —flipping Junko onto her back and checking her pulse and airway with jittery fingers. Mikan had tunnel vision on Junko, on her beloved’s chest that should be moving but wasn’t, the edges of her sight black and crusty like a burnt photograph, and suddenly the room was spinning and she was dizzy and ready to vomit.

But she fought against her physical agony because why did it matter when Junko wasn’t breathing?

Her arms felt heavy as lead as she folded her hands over Junko’s chest and pressed down once, twice, three times, hysterically counting in her head until she reached thirty. She tilted Junko’s chin up, parted her lips, and bent low to blow two puffs of air into Junko’s lungs.

Junko was unresponsive.

“No,” Mikan whimpered, heart thundering in her ears and tears blinding her vision. “No, no, no...”

She tried again. Pumped thirty times, sealed Junko’s mouth with her own, and gave Junko her air—would’ve exchanged her final breath if it meant Junko would breathe again.

But Junko remained still, making Mikan’s entire arsenal of medical knowledge feel worthless. Her chest didn’t rise. Her face didn’t twitch. She didn’t smirk or produce some witty comeback or idly inspect her nails or reveal the devilish glint often seen in those beautiful blue eyes or any other common Junko habit that Mikan loved. Mikan would’ve taken anything. Swearing, yelling, hitting, Mikan didn’t care. Anything to show Junko was still alive she would’ve accepted with open arms.

Junko did nothing.

“N-no,” Mikan panted. “I-I’m not giving up on you. I promised I’d never leave you. A-and you promised you’d never leave me, either.” Mikan’s teeth clattered as her body shook. Tears burned like acid as they leaked from the corners of her eyes. “W-why are you breaking your promise? You s-swore you’d never leave me!”

Thirty more chest compressions and each failure felt like a stab to her own.

“J-Junko, I-I know you like to make cruel jokes sometimes, but this one r-really isn’t funny.”

This couldn’t be happening. This wasn’t real. Any moment Mikan would wake up and Junko would be in her personal space with a giant grin, like always, and everything would be okay again.

What if the grin this morning was the last?

“I-I’m in despair, Junko, s-see?” Mikan’s forced smile wobbled as much as her voice. “I’m feeling that d-despair you love so much. But y-you need to open your eyes if you w-want to see it.” She heaved a broken sob, losing her smile. “S-so it’s time to stop this and wake up, o-okay?”

Junko was fine a moment ago. How did this happen? Why did this happen?

Mikan was a nurse. She had years of experience healing people, saving them; detecting their symptoms and offering solutions to their maladies. How did she fail to notice something was wrong with her beloved? How could she call herself a nurse if she couldn’t save the one person who truly mattered to her?

Mikan couldn’t lose Junko. She couldn’t. Junko was her entire reason for living. She was nothing without her. Junko made her want to wake up in the morning when she used to want to sleep forever. Junko gave her a safe home to wake up in, something she never had before. Junko gave her a life. Junko gave her happiness. Junko gave her smiles, laughter, love.

How could Mikan keep living if Junko died?

How could Mikan live with herself if she let Junko die?

“You can’t die. You can’t die. You can’t die!” Her voice rose to a scream. “Breathe, _please_!”

Mikan lost track of the minutes; of how many times her heart beat while Junko’s didn’t. She kept performing chest compressions until she felt like her arms would snap off her shoulders. She pushed so hard she worried she may have broken one of Junko’s ribs. But ribs could be healed if Junko just opened her mouth and breathed.

But despite Mikan’s strongest and most desperate efforts, Junko’s mouth stayed closed, and so did her eyes.

Mikan sobbed uncontrollably, losing herself, losing her place in this unforgiving world, holding Junko to her heaving chest and burying her face in Junko’s hair.

“I’m s-sorry. I’m sorry. P-please come back. I’ll do anything. Please don’t die. My beloved, p-please don’t leave me!” She held Junko tighter, her entire frame shaking around Junko’s still form. Her blazing tears dampened Junko’s scalp. “Please, _please_ , God, don’t take her from me, p-please, she’s my everything—”

A sudden strangled noise, then a cough, and the words died in Mikan’s throat.

“Wow,” another cough, “I come back to life just to suffocate in your tits. How despairing.”

Startled, Mikan pulled back and—

Beautiful blue eyes stared up at her.

“J... J-Junko!” she sobbed, barely trusting her senses, her hold on Junko tightening, like if she let go Junko’s eyes would close again, “I... I can’t... a-are you okay?”

“Well,” Junko shrugged with a blank, practically bored look, like the last several taxing minutes didn’t exist, “I feel like I got body slammed by a fire truck. But I’m breathing.”

Mikan sobbed again, overwhelmed with relief, and laid Junko back down once her nurse mindset returned, reminding her to keep Junko’s airway clear and give room for her chest to fully expand. Mikan’s tears splashed against Junko’s face as she stroked her hair, her cheeks, her neck, needing to feel her, to cherish her warmth, and she was just so thrilled she was breathing again.

“P-please never do that to me again. I was so s-scared. I can’t lose you. I love you.” A feral sob broke free, trembling fingers curling in Junko’s locks. “I-I love you. I love you so much.”

Junko was silent a long time, not resisting any of Mikan’s desperate, clingy touches.

And then, under her breath, “Shit, I really was just about to die, wasn’t I?”

Mikan nodded, unable to find her voice, instead biting her lip to bury another sob. The possibility of that happening had been way too close and she knew this would leave her shaken for a long time.

“What’s wrong?” Junko asked, so innocently too, like nothing should be wrong. “I’m alive. Not that your despaired face isn’t a thing of beauty, but aren’t you happy?”

“O-of course I am! I’m so thankful. It’s just,” Mikan gave a shaky sigh, “I’m scared that the s-second I look away you’ll s-stop breathing again.”

Junko gazed at her for awhile, analyzing eyes darting back and forth.

“Here.” Junko guided Mikan’s hand to lay firmly on her chest so Mikan could feel every rise and fall. “I’m breathing. You did this. You saved me.”

It did help relax her, feeling Junko breathe like that. Eyes played tricks sometimes, especially with her vision this blurry, but feeling this patterned movement under her palm helped the sureness of Junko’s recovery settle in her mind.

Then Junko smirked and Mikan was unsettled again but for a different reason. “Nah, wait, this is way too boring. You deserve something a little better.” Junko guided Mikan’s hand to her boob and pressed down, making sure Mikan got an adequate handful. “Here you go. Now you can know I’m breathing _and_ cop a feel at the same time. Win-win for you, huh?”

Mikan’s cheeks turned hot. “J-Junko!”

Junko cackled and immediately cut herself off with a grunt, expression twisting in pain.

“Ah, Christ, it hurts to laugh. My chest really is sore. Did I actually get hit by a fire truck or what?”

“I, um,” Mikan bit her lip, “might have c-cracked one of your ribs.”

Junko blinked. “For real?”

Mikan looked away sheepishly. “I-I’m sorry.”

“You kidding?” Junko chuckled. “That’s hardcore. Look at you go, my badass little nurse.”

“B-badass?”

“Fuck yeah. You saved me.” Junko’s eyelids drooped, pressing Mikan’s hand firmer against her breast. “Hero always gets the girl, right?”

Mikan’s blush darkened and she tried to keep a level head. It was not the time for this. “W-we should still get you to a hospital.”

“What?” A scoff. “Hell no. I’m fine.”

“Junko, w-what if that happens again? P-plus we should get your ribs checked.”

“Why visit a hospital when I got my own live-in nurse right here?”

Junko refused Mikan’s numerous attempts to convince her to visit a hospital that night, and with Mikan’s anxiety of that day’s events possibly repeating themselves she refused to leave Junko’s side. At one point she flopped on top of Junko, loving the way Junko’s chest rose and fell under her cheek, and decided to stay there as long as possible.

The rest of the night passed by in a blur.

It all happened so quickly Mikan wouldn’t be able to explain the details if she were asked.

And no one would ask. No one was there.

Just her and her beloved, breathing together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading :) I appreciate every kudos and comment!


	16. School Dance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mikan doesn't want to be at her school dance, but maybe that changes when a certain someone wants to dance with her.

Mikan didn’t want to go to her school dance.

Ibuki dragged her there of course, that being the main reason she attended any public event. Mikan’s social anxiety couldn’t handle such dense crowds and shining lights and pounding music. Even though she soaked up attention when it was given to her, whether positive or negative—usually negative—these specific types of events made her want to sink into the floor.

Her outfit for this unfortunately unavoidable occasion wasn’t anything special; a knee-length lilac dress she bought on sale last year but never wore. Ibuki wanted to do her makeup but as soon as she brandished the glitter Mahiru pushed her away and took over, applying just light touches and natural colours. Hiyoko nearly spilled juice in her hair but Mahiru saved her from that mishap, too.

Mikan lingered in the corner by the punch bowl, nursing a cup of water since she knew the punch was spiked, too nervous to dance or approach anyone. She wasn’t built for events like this. She felt awkward and uneasy just being there; like her presence somehow made everything worse for everyone else.

But, as she glanced into the swarm of dancers in the middle of the room, she supposed there was one thing that made being there worth it.

Junko Enoshima.

She looked so beautiful. She always looked beautiful but tonight even more so in her tight black dress and blonde hair tied back in a high ponytail. It was like every light was shining on her; like she was a burning star producing the lights illuminating the room.

Junko was dancing to the upbeat electronic music with Yasuke, her childhood friend. They looked so good together; an ideal popular couple that balanced out each other’s energy. Mikan wasn’t sure if they were actually dating but they may as well be. They were always together and Junko always looked so happy walking next to him in the halls.

Jealousy prickled Mikan’s veins like shards of ice; made her heart throb and her stomach churn and her fists clench, the plastic cup folding in her vice grip. This twisted feeling slithered under her skin until she felt she could thrust tendrils of thick despair through her fingertips. But she had no right to be jealous, not when she hadn’t even built up the nerve to simply say hello to Junko since she met her.

Filth like her couldn’t compete with any pretty or interesting person at this school, let alone Junko’s best friend. She never stood a chance to begin with.

_But still_ , she thought as Junko grinded against him, _it hurts_.

Mikan tore her gaze away, unable to keep watching. It hurt too much. Maybe she should just go home after all. She wasn’t wanted here and she wasn’t having fun. She felt a little bad with how much Ibuki pressed her to come and the effort Mahiru put in to make her look pretty—well, as pretty as a disgusting pig like her could get—but she was miserable.

Someone moved next to her and filled up a plastic cup with the punch, breaking Mikan from her thoughts.

“C-careful,” Mikan warned without looking at them, “it’s spiked.”

“Duh,” came an achingly familiar voice. “Who do you think spiked it?”

Mikan’s heart skipped a beat, turning to see Junko displaying a cheeky grin. Junko downed her drink in a few gulps, licking those full, blood red lips with a tantalizingly long tongue before tossing the empty cup over her shoulder.

“Why are you over here alone and not dancing with your friends?” Junko asked.

Mikan was staring at her mouth so she saw it move but it took her a few extra seconds to register the direct and inquisitive words. Mikan bit her lip, overwhelmed that the girl she had been crushing on for the past year was even talking with her, and glanced across the room to see Ibuki rocking out and Mahiru and Hiyoko dancing together.

“I-I... I’m not good at d-dancing,” Mikan said, barely able to push the words from her constricting throat.

Junko rolled her eyes. “None of these sluts are good at dancing.”

Mikan wrung her hands together. “E-events like this make me nervous.”

“Then why are you here?”

_You’re here._

But she could never say that. Instead she looked away, ashamed and disappointed in herself. She was a horrible conversationalist so she expected Junko to leave; expected this one opportunity to pass her by since she was an idiot and a coward and didn’t deserve to be in Junko’s presence—

“Come dance with me!” Junko chirped.

“W-what?” Mikan’s heart skipped a beat, eyes widening at Junko’s easy smile. “But...”

“No buts except your fine ass following my fine ass to the dance floor.”

Despite Mikan’s protests Junko’s grip was firm on her wrist as she dragged her along, acrylic nails nearly leaving indents in her skin.

“J-Junko, I-I don’t think—”

“Don’t _think_.” Junko stopped and faced her, the multi-coloured lights consuming her flesh until her silhouette shimmered like a rainbow. Junko held her hand and squeezed. “Just _live_.”

Junko began dancing and Mikan did her best to copy her—when she wasn’t busy staring at her swinging hips and legs and collarbone and chest—but Mikan’s movements were heavy and awkward and uncoordinated; a painfully obvious contrast to the rhythmic flow of Junko’s languid limbs. But Junko seemed to be enjoying herself and that mattered to Mikan more than anything else. Mikan would behave like a fool all night if it made Junko smile like that.

Spending time with Junko like this was magical, a miracle even, a space within the fabric of time where no one else existed, but Mikan knew it wouldn’t last forever. This was her one moment to be the cause of Junko’s smile before she became an insignificant spec in the background of Junko’s world once again.

After a few minutes the music shifted to something much softer. Mikan watched as many students departed the dance floor, leaving only embracing couples. Mikan expected Junko to leave too but Junko was fixated on her with that infamous analytical gaze.

“T-this is a slow song,” Mikan muttered, taking a cautious step back, glancing at the couples swaying around them.

Junko’s expression didn’t falter and she stepped closer. “Yep.”

Nervousness and anticipation, and a slice of hope, clawed at Mikan’s belly. “W-wouldn’t you rather slow dance with Yasuke?”

Junko laughed loudly, drawing a few eyes, like it was the funniest question she’d been asked in her life.

“He’s been tired of my shit since we got here. You should’ve seen his face when I grinded on him.” She snickered. “Dude was ready to kill me. He probably left already. Besides,” Junko’s tone dropped and she wrapped her arms snuggly around Mikan’s waist, “why would I let you go when I got you right where I want you?”

Mikan lost her voice, her breath too, as her heart soared to her throat, barely able to hear the music over how loudly it thundered. Being pulled so close Mikan had no choice but to support herself with trembling hands on Junko’s bare shoulders. Junko’s skin was soft and warm, barely sweaty at all compared to the amount forming on Mikan’s palms. She smelt so good, her spicy perfume overloading Mikan’s senses. Junko’s hands felt so nice on her hips, a gentle guide as they swayed side to side, thumbs caressing and playing with the folds of her dress.

She couldn’t have heard Junko right. This couldn’t be happening.

Junko leaned down, painted lips brushing Mikan’s ear. “You were jealous watching me dance with Yasuke, weren’t you?” Those lips curved upwards. “I felt your despair from across the room.”

Mikan suddenly felt dizzy and anxious, nearly losing her footing, a fierce shudder travelling through her. Mikan’s grip tightened on Junko’s shoulders in an attempt to steady herself. “A-anyone would be jealous...”

“Not like you were.” A chuckle. “And now everyone is jealous of _you_.”

Mikan peeked over Junko’s shoulder and, as implied, saw many pairs of envious eyes leering as if a spotlight illuminated only them out of all the couples occupying the dance floor. Mikan tensed, huddling closer, as if burying herself in Junko could make her invisible rather than the opposite effect it clearly had.

Junko tilted her head, eyes sparkling. “Do you not like that they’re staring?”

She sounded genuinely curious, which in itself was interesting since Junko tended to have the answer to everything. But even Mikan didn’t know the answer. She both did and didn’t like the attention. Normally she soaked up attention like a leech but something about standing next to Junko, getting to touch her, being touched by her, completely messed with Mikan’s thought process.

Her brain had no room to think about other people right now. All she cared about was Junko.

“Then don’t look at them,” Junko said, creating a solution to the unanswered question. “Just look at me.”

Mikan was entranced in the vibrant blue of Junko’s eyes, lost in their endless, mysterious depths until everything around them melted into a dark abyss of nothingness. They hypnotized her, pulled her in like a siren’s song, and suddenly every cell in her body needed to be closer. Mikan’s arms rose to wrap around Junko’s shoulders, desperate to feel more of her. Junko tugged her closer, their breasts squishing together, no space remaining between them. Junko’s hot breath wafted like steam across Mikan’s face. Mikan noticed Junko’s thick eyelashes flicker as she peered down at her lips.

Junko’s lips were so close. They kept getting closer.

The slow song faded away and—

“YEAH MIKAN GET SOME!”

Ibuki’s shrill voice echoed across the room, honing the attention of anyone who was blind to Mikan and Junko’s closeness originally. Mikan burst out of her trance-like state and burned bright red, stumbling away from Junko and burying her hot face in her hands.

Mikan couldn’t look at her. How could Mikan look at her after that?

The upbeat music returned along with the bustle of the crowd. That quiet, miraculous moment where only the two of them existed was over; not that Mikan could’ve salvaged it after Ibuki’s outburst anyway. Junko must think she’s some obsessive pervert—and Mikan wouldn’t be able to deny it if accused. Shame consumed her like a heavy wave and the urge to run and hide hastily stacked like unstable bricks. Junko probably wouldn’t talk to her ever again, and why would she? She had Yasuke. Why would Junko keep wasting time on a disgusting freak like her when she had—

“I’m bored of this place.”

Surprised, Mikan peeked through her fingers to see Junko wink and offer her hand. “Wanna get outta here?” Junko asked.

Splutters surged from Mikan’s mouth. “A-are you—”

Then Mikan paused, recalling Junko’s advice from earlier. Worrying, questioning, doubting herself; none of that would do her any good. In the end it boiled down to a simple decision: did she want to spend more time with Junko, or not?

And then it became obvious.

Once again Mikan didn’t know how to answer her question aloud, voice failing her like always, but she shakily accepted Junko’s hand, hoping that solution would convey every emotion she couldn’t articulate.

Junko smiled and interlaced their fingers, and just like before when Junko led her onto the dance floor she now led Mikan far away from the confines of everything she had ever known; away from the fear and limitations and societal expectations that held Mikan back her whole life.

Throughout the night as Mikan danced with blonde hair and blue eyes and red lips, she didn’t think. She just lived.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! If you enjoyed please let me know :)


	17. Bathtime

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> My Beloved: Something hot and wet is waiting for you when you get home <3333
> 
> My Beloved: A bath you perv. It’s a bath.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A few of you have told me that my Junkan fics have been real comfort fics for you and that makes me SO happy I can't even fully describe it. It just brings me so much joy that I can make stories about a ship like this and make people happy with them. To anyone that's taken the time to comment positive things about my fics and tell me how much they mean to you, thank you so much!
> 
> Warnings in this chapter for mild sexual themes.

**_My Beloved_ ** _: Something hot and wet is waiting for you when you get home <3333_

Mikan stared wide-eyed at her phone until another text popped up less than a minute later.

**_My Beloved_ ** _: A bath you perv. It’s a bath._

Mikan sighed, shielding her reddening cheeks with her hand.

She was currently on the train home, her stop quickly approaching. Junko was masterful at guessing Mikan’s whereabouts on her journey returning from work—both in timing surprises like fresh food right when she walked through the door and giving Mikan succulent and unfair images she did not want to have in public.

But that’s how Junko always was and Mikan loved her for it. Never a dull moment with her and sometimes she was even more exhausting than Mikan’s twelve hour shifts at the hospital. Though today was particularly stressful—needy patients and lazy coworkers led to a sore and tired Ultimate Nurse—so the immediate refuge of a warm bath sounded lovely.

Their apartment was empty when Mikan arrived so she assumed Junko was in the bathroom preparing the bath. That should only take a few minutes but maybe Junko didn’t start when she sent that text.

When Mikan opened the bathroom door Junko was lounging naked in the filled bathtub.

Junko winked. “Never said it was _just_ a bath.”

Mikan’s cheeks heated up and her fingers trembled on the doorknob. Her lips parted to speak but no sound emerged.

“What?” Junko cooed as she leaned over the side of the tub, her massive, bare, dripping breasts resting on the porcelain like polished trophies. “Don’t like my surprise?”

It was just as impossible to reply as it was not to stare.

An enticing giggle echoed off the tiled walls. “Don’t pretend like you weren’t thinking about it. And in public, too. What a naughty nurse.”

“T-that’s not true,” Mikan mumbled, the words arising even weaker than they squeaked in her head. She glanced away, shy, suddenly finding it difficult to stare directly at Junko. “I-I was just looking forward to a bath.”

“And now you’re looking forward to it even more, right?” Water sounds drew Mikan’s frantic gaze once again. “Maybe looking other places?”

Mikan peered down, got caught as evident by the catlike grin, and promptly hid her burning face in her hands.

Junko giggled again but it was more laidback this time. “I’m just being a dick. Not a huge one but, like, kinda. Semi-flaccid.” She waved her manicured hand. “Anyways, believe it or not I actually didn’t plan on seducing you. I just wanted to run you a bath ‘cause I’m sure your shift sucked balls and then I was like ‘wow that looks relaxing’ so I got in and added bubbles and here I am.”

“H-here you are.” She glanced at the pink and purple suds edging the water and clinging to Junko’s flawless skin. “Why the bubbles?”

“Only boring people have baths without bubbles. I ain’t boring.”

Well, that was certainly true.

“So you gonna get in or keep staring at me like the virgin you haven’t been since high school second year second semester third period?”

Crystal clear memories flooded Mikan’s brain and her blush reached the tips of her ears. “ _Junko_!”

“You’re welcome, by the way.”

Mikan released a heavy breath, flustered now as she clumsily unbuttoned her uniform. Junko blatantly stared with big eyes and a tiny smile, supporting her chin in her palms, like a sugar-obsessed child admiring candy through a confectionery window.

Mikan squirmed under her gaze, heart pattering against her ribs. “P-please look away.”

Knowing blue eyes drooped. “We both know you don’t want me to do that.”

Mikan bit her lip, any response dying in her throat. Junko saw right through her like she was made of glass, as expected. Mikan always wanted Junko to look at her; to see everything she was, physically and mentally. She never wanted Junko to stop looking at her.

Though it was still embarrassing undressing in front of her. Didn’t matter how many times Junko had seen her naked by now. Mikan knew she wasn’t pretty, was reminded her entire life, so she didn’t know why Junko always stared at her so freely, like if she looked away she would miss something important.

Mikan didn’t understand—but still flourished under her attention.

Mikan folded her shirt on a stool and hastily unclipped her bra, adding it to the pile.

“Could hang my clothes on that rack.”

“J-Junko!” Mikan gasped, briefly covering her chest. “D-don’t say that.”

Her skirt was next, zipper giving way to shaky fingers until the garment crumpled at her feet.

“Crush my head like a watermelon between those thighs.”

“Junko...”

Her panties reached her knees by the time another crude comment came.

“I wanna smack that ass like bongos.”

Mikan huffed. She knew Junko was just teasing, and a part of her actually liked Junko being so openly playful about appreciating her body—it made the degradation from her bullies seem momentarily meaningless—but sometimes she wished she could fluster Junko, too. Making those types of comments on her body didn’t work. Junko held no humility for how attractive she knew she was and Mikan couldn’t manage any pickup lines without flubbing them completely. Sometimes Junko made her so nervous and excited she couldn’t speak at all.

But after dating Junko for years, Mikan learned how to tease Junko back in her own way.

She pulled her panties back up.

“AAAH, _no_ , I’m sorry!” Junko wailed, water sloshing and bubbles flying with the sudden flailing of her limbs. “Keep getting naked!”

Mikan ignored her and even reached for her skirt—though she had no intention of putting it back on.

Junko’s expression fell and she slumped over the side of the tub like a ragdoll. In a monotone voice, “After I prepared this bath for you with bubbles and everything... even gave you some tiddy to look at...” A dejected sigh. “How despairing...”

Mikan knew Junko was just being dramatic but she still fell for that sad look every time.

She knelt down next to Junko to properly see her face. As soon as she saw the pout she gave in completely, closing those last few inches to kiss it away. She felt Junko perk up immediately, smiling and humming against her lips. Mikan smiled too, butterflies tickling her belly as Junko cupped her cheek and tugged her a little closer.

“Join me?” Junko asked softly when they parted. Her tone held none of its previous mischievousness. It was a tone Junko only used when they were alone; when Mikan needed genuine reassurance; when Junko allowed herself to be vulnerable.

That tone made Mikan putty in her hands. She was planning to join Junko in the bath from the start but even if she wasn’t that tone would’ve changed her mind in a heartbeat.

Mikan shed her undergarments and entered the bath one careful leg at a time, pleased by the soothing warmth of the water. Junko squeezed herself against the back of the tub, eagerly opening her arms and legs for Mikan to snuggle into. And Mikan did just that, leaning back against Junko’s soft front, giggling as Junko held her tight and nuzzled her neck with her nose. Her heart raced for a moment at the full skin-on-skin contact with the woman she loved, feeling Junko’s bare breasts squish against her back, but relaxed when Junko’s fingers didn’t wander.

Maybe, despite the teasing, she intended for this to be an innocent, relaxing bath after all.

“This feels nice,” Mikan breathed, tension dissipating from her bones as she nestled further into Junko.

Junko pressed gentle kisses to her neck. “I knew you’d like it. You work way too hard for those dickless blowhards at the hospital.” A squeeze and a huff. “My girl deserves time to relax.”

Even after all these years, being Junko’s, having Junko call her that, made her heart soar into her throat.

“T-thank you.” Mikan stroked Junko’s leg, both to show appreciation and to calm herself. She always got so emotional at the smallest things. “You always know what I need. I-I never even have to tell you.”

Junko shrugged. “I mean, you like seeing me naked and I like seeing you naked. Add in warm water and bubbles,” she played with some in her palm, “and we basically got it made.”

“What’s with you and the bubbles tonight?”

“They’re round and they’re bouncy.” Acrylic nails brushed the underside of Mikan’s breasts and lips met her ear. “Like two of my other favourite things...”

Maybe this wouldn’t be an innocent, relaxing bath after all.

But, as promised, it was something hot, it was something wet, and Mikan could only be teased for so long before she couldn’t wait anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! If you enjoyed please let me know :)


	18. Strip Club

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mikan didn't know what she was thinking coming here. But the beautiful blonde stripper on stage gives her a reason to stay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for 200+ kudos everyone! I really appreciate it. Let's see how high we can boost that number.
> 
> Warnings in this chapter for sexual themes and mild sexual content.

As Mikan’s vision was consumed by flashing lights, platform heels, skimpy underwear and generous amounts of glowing skin, only one thought was clear in the otherwise foggy state of her mind.

What was she thinking?

_“You’ll never snag a girl at this rate Mikan. You can’t even talk to them!”_

All her friends teased her like that. Determined to prove herself, Mikan made a rash decision while walking home from work.

She could’ve tried chatting up a girl at the bus stop. Maybe swung by a gay bar and bought a girl a drink. Maybe used her clumsiness to her advantage by tripping in front of some girl who would help her up.

Instead she entered a strip club.

Mikan never felt more out of place in her life.

A beautiful stripper with large blonde pigtails and other stunningly large attributes barely contained in her monochromatic lingerie was currently on stage. She walked with grace, with confidence, with a stage presence that commanded everyone’s attention—Mikan’s too as she watched from a faraway table adjacent to the bar, too nervous to sit any closer to the stage. The stripper swung her body with utmost control around the pole, each movement catered with charisma and oozing sexuality.

Mikan met her gaze—and maybe it was just because she was overwhelmed by the whole situation in general—but it was as if the world came to a halt. Like they were the only people in the room. Like, for a moment, the stripper was performing only for her.

The stripper winked and blew Mikan a kiss.

Mikan nearly combusted on the spot and turned away, burying her burning face in her hands.

She simmered in her embarrassment for another minute before someone tapped her on the shoulder. Mikan looked and saw a tall, middle-aged man with an unsettling smile that uncomfortably shifted her gut.

“How much for a dance?” he asked.

Mikan nearly chomped her tongue in half. What about her appearance inspired that question? Did he not notice she was the only woman here in a full outfit? “Oh, um, I-I don’t work here.”

“Really?” His beady eyes roamed her up and down and she struggled not to squirm. “You totally should with that smokin’ bod.”

Mikan glanced away, nervously wringing her hands. “I... I don’t...”

“Well,” he stepped into her personal space and she smelt the booze clinging to his breath, “if that’s the case you should just come home with me instead.”

Mikan bit her lip, curling in on herself, hoping if she squished into a tiny ball he suddenly wouldn’t be able to see her. She wanted to tell him to leave her alone, that she wasn’t interested, that he was scaring her, _anything_ , but she was horrible with confrontation, always had been, and completely froze up.

She shouldn’t have come here. It was a mistake coming here. What was she think—

“Hey buddy,” a sharp, feminine voice sparked behind the man. “She said she doesn’t work here.”

When the man turned around Mikan saw the blonde stripper who was just on stage. A manicured hand rested on her cocked hip and a challenging look gleamed in her eyes.

“Do you mind, slut?” he spat.

“I do mind,” she said without missing a beat. “Go shove your microscopic dick up your ass.”

He growled and stepped towards her threateningly. “You bitch—”

The blonde snapped her fingers and a black haired girl appeared as if from thin air, roughly escorting the resisting man out of the building.

“Thanks Muku-roach!” she called before turning back to Mikan, red lips stretched in a toothy grin. “That was my uber protective big sis. Anyone who tries any bullshit with me gets a gun to their head.”

“H-huh?” Mikan squeaked, too stunned to form proper words.

The blonde waved her hand. “We run this place. Was a real shithole before we came along. And we like the hands-on approach so we can keep an eye on things. Since I’ve got the bod I decided to lube that pole real good and since she’s too ugly for that she became a bouncer. You ain’t gotta worry about a thing except your emptying wallet while we’re here.”

“I... I see.” Mikan wrung her hands together again, struggling to keep eye contact. She still hadn’t processed what happened. “T-thank you for saving me, Miss...”

“My stage name is the Mastermind. But a cutie like you can call me Junko.” She winked and Mikan’s heart leapt into her throat. “What’s your name?”

Her name. Right. She had one of those.

“M-Mikan.”

“Mikan? Like an orange? Hey Tsumugi!” Junko motioned to the blue haired bartender. “Get an orange drink for Miss Orange over here. And the usual for me.”

Junko guided Mikan to a barstool with a hand on the small of her back and Mikan barely avoided fainting on the spot. The iced orange drink was quickly pushed into her shaky fingers.

“Oh, um, t-thank you.”

It was fruity, a little too sweet, but a welcome distraction.

“This is your first time here, huh?” Junko commented, taking a sip of her black, white and red concoction.

Mikan bit her lip. “Is it that obvious?”

“You look like you’re about to piss yourself. So yeah.”

Mikan whimpered, hiding her eyes under her hand.

“What’s a shy thing like you doing here all alone? You make a wrong turn somewhere? Looking for a job? It’s always the shy ones that have the biggest surprises so I don’t judge a book by its cover.” Junko snickered, gesturing to the people idling around them. “Or you here to see some titties like everyone else?”

“I-I just... I’m really bad at talking to girls. At talking to a-anyone, really. My friends keep teasing me about it. I know they mean well but I got frustrated and wasn’t thinking clearly and thought maybe if I came in here surrounded by half-naked women I could learn how to talk to girls.” Mikan sighed. “Should’ve known that w-wouldn’t work out. I’m s-such an idiot.”

She didn’t mean to say that much. What was she thinking? Why did she just blurt about her social anxiety to a stranger—a working stripper no less? She really was an idiot.

It was silent for a moment but then—

“You’re talking to me.”

Mikan nearly choked on her drink. “H-huh?”

“I’m a half-naked woman—with really great tits, I might add.” She squeezed them together, drawing Mikan’s gaze with a giggle. “And I’m an absolute delight to be around. You’re talking to me, aren’t you?”

It was such an obvious truth yet Mikan hadn’t clued into it until it was pointed out.

“Oh. I, um... I-I guess I am.”

Those cerulean eyes analyzed her with surprising interest, studying her, mulling something over. Then Junko leaned in close like she was going to tell her a secret.

“Would you like a dance?”

Mikan’s lips parted, thinking she misheard. The question swirled like a siren’s song in her mind and suddenly her heart was pounding.

“R-really? With s-someone like me?” Mikan stammered. “Y-you wouldn’t mind?”

“You kidding? I’ll take grinding against soft tits over some loser’s half-chub any day.” Junko winked. “I’m gonna enjoy this just as much as I know you will.”

Junko led her by the hand to the upper section of the club showcasing a row of small spaces offering privacy with curtains. They entered a free room and Junko closed the curtain behind them.

“Sit there,” Junko said, pointing to the large chair against the wall. Mikan followed the instructions but she was nervous, back ramrod straight and knees tight together. “No, no, you’re not at a fucking office meeting. _Relax_. Lounge back and spread your legs a little. There you go.”

Junko settled on her lap, thick thighs embracing Mikan’s own. Junko was so warm and she smelled really good. Mikan had never been this close to a girl before and her heart was pounding so hard she swore it would burst from her chest.

“Each song is 2,000 yen.” Junko leaned in close, wrapping her arms around Mikan’s neck. Then she winked. “But you’re cute so the first one’s a freebie, okay?”

“O-okay.” Mikan’s fingers twitched and she curled them into fists at her sides. “Um, my—my hands, w-where should I put them?”

Junko’s lips brushed her ear. “Anywhere you want.”

Mikan shivered, shoulders trembling as acrylic nails teased the nape of her neck. Mikan hesitantly placed her hands on Junko’s waist, glancing up to see if that was okay. Junko grinned, covering Mikan’s hands with her own to ensure she felt every roll of her hips.

Mikan chewed her lip, cheeks blazing and eyes wandering, unable to look at the same place for too long with taut muscles and smooth skin and bountiful hair and seductive eyes dancing all around her, becoming her entire world.

But Junko gave her something to focus on when she unhooked her bra, massive breasts bouncing free. Mikan couldn’t look away and soon they consumed her vision as Junko snaked her hand around Mikan’s head and tugged her closer. As if hypnotized, Mikan couldn’t think of anything besides worshipping the ambrosial skin suffocating her and dragged her lips across all the dips and curves.

So soft. So warm.

A finger raising her chin was the only reason she parted from hardening pink flesh but then a saccharine red smile devoured her own. Her first kiss with a girl stolen so easily yet Mikan didn’t mind, welcomed her thief, moaning under the skeleton key tongue that unlocked her mouth and scavenged every nook and cranny.

Mikan lost track of how many songs went by. They quickly became nothing more than pulses and beats in the back of her mind, muted by the deafening drum of her heart. All that mattered was Junko’s body in her hands and the heat in her core and the stickiness in her underwear.

“H-how,” she choked out as Junko playfully nibbled her earlobe, “how m-much?”

A wave of hot breath washed along her cheek. “40,000 yen.”

Mikan’s eyes widened, panic bubbling in her chest. “I... I don’t...”

“Awww, don’t have the money, huh?” Mischief gleamed in those knowing eyes, like she planned this all along. “Well, I’m sure we can work out an alternate form of payment.”

Junko’s hand crept under Mikan’s skirt, acrylic nails slowly dragging it upwards until it fanned around her waist.

Once again, for the hundredth time that night, Mikan wasn’t sure what she was thinking. She didn’t know this woman, could barely wrap her head around what was happening, how this probably shouldn’t be happening, but found she didn’t care. She felt overwhelmingly hot and horny and willingly spread her legs for this beautiful woman who made her feel beautiful, too.

Why think when she could feel?

“Orange panties, huh? Suits your name.” Junko nestled her head between Mikan’s thighs, licking her lips with a long tongue. “Let’s find out if you taste like oranges, too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! If you enjoyed and want more drabbles please let me know :)


	19. Ex-Boyfriend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Junko's ex tries to convince Mikan to stop dating her. Mikan's having none of it.

“So then Muku-roach said, ‘Junko you really shouldn’t push a child off a building,’ can you believe that?”

“Um, y-yes, I can.”

Junko scoffed, nearly spilling her iced coffee with an exuberant wave of her arm. “She’s such a buzzkill. Always ruining my fun. I was just bored, that’s all. She makes such a big deal out of everything.”

In Mukuro’s defense that kind of was a big deal—but Mikan was so used to Junko’s behaviour by now that Junko openly admitting something so jarring barely fazed her. Junko got bored easily, and when she got bored she tended to resort to strange and sometimes concerning activities to cure her boredom. But she always came home safe and in the end that was all Mikan cared about.

“So did you?” Mikan asked.

“Did I what?”

“P-push a child off a building.”

“Well I haven’t been arrested yet. Does that answer your question?”

Mukuro would’ve killed any cops that even tried. “N-not really.”

Junko giggled. “Isn’t it titillating that your massive-tittied girlfriend is so totally mysterious?”

That sentence was a trap and Mikan _knew_ it was a trap but fell for it anyway, peeking at Junko’s generous amount of cleavage squishing against the table. Junko always enjoyed leaving buttons loose but Mikan had a suspicion she left an extra unbuttoned every time they went on dates.

Titillating? Yes. Mysterious? Not so much anymore. She just knew how to keep Mikan on her toes and how to command Mikan’s attention no matter the setting—and took sadistic, insatiable joy from doing so in public.

Mikan almost jumped out of her seat when Junko slammed down her half-finished cup, gaze flying back up, cheeks reddening as she wondered just how long she’d been staring.

“This shit goes right through me. Ladies room calls.” A mischievous, red-painted grin bisected Junko’s face. “Don’t you slip anything in my drink while I’m gone.”

Mikan nearly choked on her own. “W-why would I do that?”

“You’re a nurse. I know you got some sort of drugs on you.”

“None that I’d ever p-put in your drink!”

“Ah, right, you’re more of a needle girl.”

“ _Junko_! D-don’t say that so loud!” Mikan huddled in on herself, glancing at the customers sprinkled around them. “P-people will get the wrong idea.”

Junko just laughed and kissed her cheek, walking off with clicking heels.

Mikan took a moment to catch her breath, observing the coffee shop as she waited for Junko to return. It was a quaint, quiet place, a discrete exterior and homey interior, with spaced wooden tables and flowering vines dangling off the rows of soft ceiling lights. The comfortable scent of freshly baked bread and brewed coffee clung to the earthy tones and nature paintings on the walls. Mikan loved this place—possibly one of the only public venues she felt at peace.

It wasn’t Junko’s style, Mikan knew that; Junko would prefer a bar or arcade or somewhere else she could be loud and terrorize others. But every time Mikan wanted to come here Junko made no complaints, already lacing up her boots the second it was suggested, like whatever she had planned came second whenever Mikan wanted to take her here.

It was nice getting to go on a date with her, kindling a warm sensation in Mikan’s chest that wasn’t from her coffee. They didn’t often get the chance, with Mikan’s back-to-back shifts at the hospital and Junko’s... whatever it was she got up to when Mikan wasn’t around.

So Mikan would cherish every second. Every second spent with Junko was a blessing. She loved her so much.

She was broken out of her dreamy thoughts as a tall, black haired man she didn’t recognize approached her. His off-white shirt was wrinkly and his tie was crooked but he seemed not to care for his dishevelled appearance. His long face was all hard lines and shadows, a near-frown chiselled above cold eyes that reminded Mikan of steel doors.

“Excuse me.” His baritone voice was aloof, bored even, but the tenseness of his jaw implied something was bothering him. “Are you dating the woman who was just here?”

What a strange question—and not like it was any of his business. Was he trying to hit on her? Or hit on Junko through her?

“Um,” she gripped her cup tighter, “yes.”

“You shouldn’t.”

Mikan blinked, assuming she misheard or he was joking. But his serious expression never changed and an uncomfortable weight burrowed in her stomach. “W-what?”

“She’s my ex.”

Mikan shrivelled in her seat, feeling more anxious by the second. Was he jealous? Was he still interested in Junko? Was he going to hurt her?

“Oh, um...”

“This isn’t what you probably think it is. I’m not trying to threaten you. I’m trying to save you.”

“S-save me? From what?”

“Her.”

“Who? Junko?”

The man winced like hearing Junko’s name caused him physical pain.

“She’s a monster.”

To Mikan the venom-laced insult was like being drenched in ice water, bones and muscles seizing up until her body melted in white-hot fury.

“Wh—how dare you!” A snarl warped her face. “D-don’t talk about her like that.”

His lips parted and he squinted at her as if she just confessed to murder.

“You can’t be serious. You can’t seriously be defending her right now.”

“She’s my girlfriend and I love her. She’s amazing. Of course I’m going to defend her.”

“Do you not know the horrible things she’s done?” His frown deepened. “The way she treats people?”

“People can change.”

“Not her. She’s rotten to the core. And she knows it. She never cared about me and she definitely doesn’t care about you. All she cares about is herself. After you’re done being useful she’ll toss you aside like garbage.”

That was a paralyzing fear Mikan had never been able to shake. She loved being useful to Junko, would do anything to make her happy, but what if one day her usefulness came to an end? What if one day Junko woke up and decided she didn’t want her anymore?

“She d-does care,” Mikan said, shoving her anxieties aside for now. “I’ve seen sides of her no one else has.”

His features softened just a touch, pity in his eyes.

“She made me feel important too, like I was the only one that mattered to her, but she was just manipulating me the whole time.”

People treated Mikan like that her whole life. Classmates, so-called friends, even her parents. But not Junko. Junko would never do that to her. She wouldn’t allow his words to waver her trust in Junko.

He sighed. “Just think about what I said.” Then he left, Mikan’s gaze glued to his back until he disappeared down the street.

She tried to calm the harsh pattering of her heart. Anger wasn’t something she felt very often—she tended to bury such negative feelings deep down inside—but that man congregated every ounce of darkness dwelling within her. He had no right to talk about Junko like that.

She was so distracted she only realized Junko returned from the squeak of her chair.

“Chatting up my ex, huh? Thinking of cheating on me?” Despite the words, her tone was airy. “Gotta say, I respect your angle. A real conniving way to make the pain personal.”

“What? N-no, of course not!” The very thought made Mikan sick. She wrung her hands together, tongue stumbling for words. “H-he just came over and... and...”

Junko giggled, playfully shoving her shoulder. “Just twisting your panties. I overheard everything. I was a mega bitch to Yasuke back in the day. Was in the prime of my bitchhood, if you will. I’m not surprised he’s still mad but I didn’t expect him to try and sabotage my relationship. That type of shit is more my style.”

“Your s-style?”

“Ruining other people’s relationships, ruining my own; I’m practically a master by now, just spreading despair everywhere I go. What I did to him...” Junko frowned, looking more troubled than Mikan could remember. “I—”

Mikan reached for her hand and squeezed. “I don’t care what you did.”

Junko winced. “You probably should.”

Mikan was tired of people telling her how she should feel. He did that earlier, too. This wasn’t naivety. She was confident in how she felt—something her younger self could never amount to. And if her own feelings did end up getting her hurt, at least it would be by her own choice.

But she trusted her judgement on this.

“I _don’t_. Whoever you were back then, you’re not that person anymore.”

Junko tilted her head, pigtails drooping, eyeing her with a certain interest Mikan couldn’t place.

“How do you know that?” The corners of Junko’s lips lifted in a tiny smile, but it wasn’t genuine; Mikan knew how to spot her masks. “I could’ve been faking this whole time.”

“For t-two years?”

“You underestimate my patience.”

“W-why are you trying to make a case against yourself?” Mikan squeezed her hand again, fighting the urge to chew her bottom lip. She still struggled with self-esteem issues but it was even harder whenever Junko’s shone through. “Do you want me to leave you?”

Junko was quiet for a moment, gazing at nothing, taking a thoughtful sip of her iced coffee—and Mikan knew it was thoughtful since she didn’t make any obnoxious slurping noises. “No.”

“Do you think you’d deserve it?”

She got no response and Junko still refused to look at her. Mikan’s heart ached. Nothing was worse than when Junko had nothing to say; a silent yet neon sign something was truly bothering her.

“Junko, I love you. I trust you. No matter what you say, I know who you are and I want to be with you.”

It took several suffocating moments but, finally, the little smile on Junko’s face became real.

“Who would’ve thought you’d be the one saying that to me?” Junko chuckled. “Ironic, huh?”

“T-there’s only one thing I want to know.”

“What’s that?”

“What changed you? H-how did you go from being awful to him to being wonderful to me?”

Blue eyes twinkled, flickering all over Mikan’s features. Junko’s spark, her mischief, her charm, everything returned, and she glowed under the halo of soft light from above.

“You mean you don’t know?”

Mikan blinked. “S-should I know?”

Junko giggled, making Mikan’s heart skip a beat, and her shoulders relaxed. “I guess it’s my little secret then.”

“Junko!” Mikan whined, puffing out her cheeks. “D-don’t tease me like that.”

Junko giggled more, poking Mikan’s cheek with an acrylic nail until it deflated and then Mikan was giggling too, chest warming as Junko interlaced their fingers.

“So did you?” Junko asked.

“D-did I what?”

“Just fall deeper in love with me after basically telling my ex to fuck off.” She winked, lips curved in a lopsided smirk. “Hot, by the way.”

Feeling bold, high off Junko’s praise, Mikan stood to lean across the table and planted a gentle kiss on Junko’s lips. Mikan pulled back before Junko could respond and took a long sip of her coffee, gazing up at Junko shyly.

“Does that answer your question?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading as always! If you enjoyed and want more please let me know :)


	20. Happy Birthday Junko

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> But this birthday was different. This birthday was special.
> 
> This was her first birthday with Mikan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MY WIFE JUNKO! Was saving this drabble for today.
> 
> And Merry Christmas / Happy Holidays everyone! Stay safe.
> 
> Warning in this chapter for mild sexual content.

Junko didn’t care much for her birthday. Not only did she have to share it with her uglyass twin sister, but Junko always regarded her birth as a tragedy to the world. She was a mass of poison, a demon in a baby’s shell that sapped the life from her own mother, and from then on continually wreaked despair to everyone around her, endlessly searching for anything and anyone to give her a reason to be alive.

Each birthday was the same. Her father eyed her with distain until he was out of the picture, Mukuro got her a gift she promptly threw away, and the rest was spent spreading just a little more despair than usual as a treat to herself.

But this birthday was different. This birthday was special.

This was her first birthday with Mikan.

Mikan was different from everyone else. She gave Junko that sense of belonging she always craved. Made Junko yearn for something other than despair; yearn to enjoy other emotions, to enjoy love, to enjoy giving love to another person. Mikan never tried to change her, never tried to take away her gratifying despair, merely opened her up to new experiences by spending time with her. And she knew Mikan genuinely enjoyed spending time with her, perhaps the only person on this planet who did.

So, for once, Junko actually looked forward to her birthday. Looked forward to spending that time with her lover.

Mikan was obsessed with her, with giving and receiving as much physical affection as possible after how scorned and abused she had been her whole life, so when Junko woke up she expected to feel Mikan’s soft curves pressing into her side as usual.

Mikan wasn’t in bed and already that was a suspicious sign.

Junko shrugged off the weird feeling it spawned in her gut and dressed herself, brushing out the tangles in her thick mane before leaving her bedroom. The scent of butter and grease clung to the air and Junko followed her nose and quickly found Mikan in the kitchen cooking pancakes and bacon.

“Ooo, are you making me breakfast?” She hugged Mikan from behind and felt her jolt. She grinned into Mikan’s neck, giving her a soft kiss. “What a basic but thoughtful girlfriend you are. Always giving me something to... _eat_.”

Junko followed that innuendo with a teasing nip on Mikan’s earlobe and fingertips grazing her thigh. It was silent for a moment, absent of the regular gasps or giggles or stutters, once again raising conspicuous, apprehensive flags in Junko’s mind.

Then—

“Why would I make you breakfast? This is for me.”

A wave of something—shock, surprise, had to be one of those things she rarely experienced—washed over Junko as she immediately pulled back, gazing at Mikan with wide eyes and a slack jaw.

“Why would you... because of what day it is, duh!”

Mikan stared as if in a daze, purple eyes tired and dull, like she didn’t even hear her. Like she wasn’t putting in any effort to pay attention. Junko had never seen Mikan look at her like that; like she was bored of her.

Mikan blinked slowly. “Is today something important?”

The question was like a punch to the gut, thick claws extending and rearranging Junko’s insides. Such innocent words sounded more like a curse; dreadful lyrics that never should have sprouted from Mikan’s saccharine lips, like her body was a puppet and someone else, something twisted and wrong, was speaking through her.

“I didn’t realize,” Mikan added before looking away, focusing again on her cooking. “Oh well.”

Junko stared at her, too flabbergasted to even reply, and that in itself had her head spinning because nothing tended to surprise her. She always had something to say; always knew how to one-up people in conversation.

Junko double checked what day it was, double checked the happy birthday text Mukuro sent her—including a picture of her with her boring, dumbass partners Makoto and Sayaka who clearly didn’t forget _her_ birthday—so Junko was positive she didn’t mix up her days. It was December 24th. Christmas Eve. Her birthday.

Why was Mikan acting like she didn’t know that? She... she did know that, right? She had to know. But if she knew, why was she ignoring it? Out of every day of the year, this was the day she expected the most affection from Mikan. Balloons and cake and presents, the whole traditionally exhausting shebang.

Instead she was getting the cold shoulder, something she didn’t know Mikan was even possible of giving—especially to her. Did she do something wrong? Mikan seemed fine yesterday, her usual shy and clumsy and clingy and wonderful self.

Mikan forgot her birthday. Mikan was acting like she wasn’t even alive. Like she meant nothing to her, that she was bored of her, that she didn’t exist.

That gave Junko... such _despair_.

Junko squeezed her thighs together and gripped the fabric over her racing heart, relishing the pure and thrilling despair that shot through her like a bullet. Her body was on fire, burning her alive from the inside out, manic giggles kindling in her throat. Oh, it was so much, too much, her blood flowing like magma and toes curling and canines splitting her lips. Her nerve endings were singing, every sensation too much for her to handle. When had she last felt like this? So full, so fulfilled, so separated from reality?

This was Mikan’s doing. Mikan was killing her. Mikan was making her feel alive.

And Mikan’s questionable—and delightfully disturbing—behaviour didn’t stop. Mikan neglected her all day, brushing her off with curt responses and not reciprocating any physical affection. All of Junko’s offers to do something together were ignored and Mikan continued doing her own thing, like she completely forgot Junko existed every time Junko stopped talking. Being treated like this all day was like an out of body experience; an intense, unstoppable fever dream. By the time the sun sunk beneath the horizon Junko wasn’t sure if she wanted to cry or have an orgasm.

She always felt alone on her birthday, deservedly so, and this was the first one she thought she’d get to enjoy with another person, with the first person she loved and who loved her, but she felt more alone this birthday than ever before.

Something must have shown on her face because, finally, Mikan’s aloof expression cracked, lips quivering and brow furrowing.

“Aaah, I-I can’t do this anymore!” Mikan launched herself at Junko, wrapping her arms around her in a tight, consoling hug. “H-Happy birthday, my beloved!”

“Wait, what? So you did know?” Junko pulled back to look at Mikan’s face. “Mikan, what’s going on?”

“Did you like your present? P-please tell me you did, that was so hard for me to do. I-I almost broke as soon as I first saw you.”

“Huh? My present?”

“Y-yes. Did you... did I make you feel despair?”

Junko’s brain short circuited for a moment, words dying in her throat.

“You... wanted to give me despair for my birthday?”

Mikan nodded shyly, cheeks rosy and wringing her hands together.

“At first I thought about, um, _being_ your gift,” her cheeks burned scarlet, “b-but you already have me and you would’ve expected that. I-I wanted to surprise you but I didn’t know how.”

She was right; Junko _had_ expected that. Not that seeing Mikan naked and tied up with a ribbon wouldn’t have been delectable, but it would’ve been predictable, and thus boring, at least today of all days.

“So I-I asked Mukuro about what to get you and she said you always t-throw away the gifts she gives you and I didn’t want to get you something you’d just throw away. A-and the only thing I’m absolutely sure you like is d-despair, so—”

Junko cut her off by grabbing Mikan’s hand and holding it to her chest.

“Do you feel this? All day. You’ve made my heart jackhammer like a dude on Viagra all day. I kept thinking I did something wrong or that you completely forgot my birthday or that you were gonna break up with me.”

“W-what? Oh no, Junko, I’m so s-sorry! This was so stupid of me to do. I-I love you so much, I’d never—”

“It was amazing.”

“H-huh?”

“No one’s ever tried so hard to give me despair before. This is the best birthday gift ever. The best _birthday_ ever. All because of you!” Junko pressed playful kisses all over Mikan’s face. “I love you, I love you, I love you!”

Mikan’s nervous giggles were music to Junko’s ears, only pausing when they shared a sweet kiss on the mouth. “S-so I didn’t mess everything up?”

“You did make a mess. In my fucking underwear. Feel this.” Junko took Mikan’s hand and shoved it under her skirt, pressing Mikan’s shaky fingers firm against her wet panties. “You did this. You’ll take responsibility, right?” Junko lowered her voice, eyelids drooping. “After all, it _is_ my birthday.”

She ate up Mikan’s full body shiver, relished the bite of her lip and how her pupils blew wide. Junko was thrilled when Mikan eagerly dropped to her knees, trembling fingers tugging her drenched underwear down her thighs. Junko bunched her skirt in her fists and held it to her waist, giving Mikan a clear view and easy access.

Mikan gazed up at her with eyes no longer dull and tired but bright and shining; overflowing with love and lust and an unquenchable desire to please.

“Happy birthday, Junko.”

Junko grinned, sighing with the first warm contact of Mikan’s tongue. “Happy fuckin’ birthday to me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Kudos and comments are really appreciated :)


	21. Healing Goddess

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Junko's injured and only the apparent Healing Goddess can save her. But does such a person exist?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's to a new year that's hopefully better than the shitshow this one has been, and to a new year filled with more soft Junkan content that I will supply as much as I can!

“Where the fuck are we going? You stupid _and_ blind? The town’s that way.”

“Junko, you’re wanted in over half the cities across the country.”

“Hell yeah I’m wanted. Just check out this bod.”

“You know that’s not what I meant. I can’t take you there. No mage would be willing to heal you. The guards would kill you on sight.”

“Who cares? I’m dying anyway. Rather put on a show as I die than rot next to your ugly ass.”

The galloping horse only aggravated the wound at Junko’s side even more, blood spilling through her fingers. If not for Mukuro’s tight grip she probably would have fallen off hours ago. She was more light-headed than she’d ever admit but she wouldn’t let that falter her witty comments and need to get in the last word.

“According to this map the spring of the healing goddess should be nearby,” Mukuro said. “I’m taking you there.”

“Healing Goddess? You believe in shit like that? She isn’t real. She’s a fairytale miracle worker that sick, hopeless virgins blow their load to.”

“She’s our only option. We’re out of potions, food and gold. If she’s not real you’re going to die.”

“Guess I’m gonna die then. How despairing for you.”

“Please just stop talking and save your energy. I’m not going to lose you.”

Junko planned on mocking Mukuro further but the jarring pain in her side stilled the words in her throat, nothing but a pained groan emerging.

An arrow in the side; what a pitifully despairing way to die. Falling in battle so easily despite her skill and reputation, leaving her to waste away pathetic and alone—and deaf from her twin’s constant worrying. The despair of such a miserable fate shot a thrill right through her, making her wound bleed even more.

She could’ve dodged the arrow. She was known as the Mastermind Analyst. Nothing got past her. Nothing could surprise her. She should’ve noticed the sniper, heard the nock of the arrow, sensed the direction. Why didn’t she notice? Why didn’t she dodge?

Or maybe she did notice and let it hit her. She couldn’t say for sure. Dodging or not dodging, which would have brought more despair? Living in a world that hates her, with a sister that gave up peace for her, or being remembered as a queen that fell to a peasant?

Both were terrible. Both were so, so terrible. And in moments like that her mind would shut down. Let fate decide if she would dodge or not.

Fate decided.

“There it is.”

Mukuro’s voice snapped her to attention when her eyes were ready to close. She knew if they had they might not have opened again.

There was a beautiful open spring in the clearing of the forest, sunlight glistening off the waist-high, crystal clear water. Blooming pink and purple flowers edged the waterline and a large, flat-topped boulder rested in the centre. It was pretty, sure, a place some loser dicktip would try to impress a sheltered girl with, but nothing seemed magical or godlike about it.

Mukuro brought the horse to a halt and quickly leapt down, helping Junko off and carrying her in her arms. Junko groaned, her side stabbing, the fur of Mukuro’s wolf pelt tickling her nose. Mukuro trudged through the water to the centre, laying Junko down flat on the boulder as if she were an offering.

“Healing Goddess, please!” Mukuro called with more emotion than she usually allowed. “Save my sister!”

She sounded like an idiot, desperately pleading to the air, but Mukuro kept trying for over a minute even when nothing happened.

“This is pointless,” Junko said, rolling her eyes when Mukuro glared her way. “I don’t need her—”

Suddenly the spring started glowing, so harshly Junko had to close her eyes for a moment. A plethora of colours sparkled across the churning water, dancing and swaying, as if preparing for some sort of performance or transformation.

A naked woman then rose from the water as if she had been dormant the whole time, skin wet and flawless and glowing, large breasts partially concealed by her long, choppy purple mane. It flowed around her in waves and ripples despite the lack of breeze, making her seem one with the spring.

Her serene expression quickly melted into one of concern.

“Oh no, y-you’re injured! Don’t worry, I’ll—aah!”

The woman tripped and fell in the water, geysers splashing around her, only the curves of her ass still visible thanks to her current folded position.

Junko blinked, her pain momentarily forgotten. “ _This_ is the healing goddess?” 

The purple haired woman quickly stumbled back to her feet, cheeks red and bowing slightly.

“Aah, I’m so sorry! P-please forgive me! I’ll h-help you right away!”

“Help me? You look like you’d accidentally stab me if you were holding a needle. Or maybe yourself, honestly.”

“I-I know, I’m really clumsy. The others always tease me about that. B-but I’m good at what I do. The best. I’ll prove it, if you let me.”

“Please help her.” Mukuro looked between them both urgently. “Please let her help, Junko.”

Junko sighed, bored with all this already. “I’ve got nothing to lose at this point. Show me what you got, Hot Stuff.”

The goddess stumbled for a moment, but she looked more embarrassed by the pet name rather than offended. Shaking it off, she lifted up Junko’s shirt so the fresh wound was on full display.

“Undressing me already?” Junko chuckled weakly, coughing a little. “You move fast. Well,” another chuckle, “you’re already naked anyway.”

The teasing was ineffective this time as the goddess focused solely on Junko’s injury, seeming fully in her element. Her hands looked human but there was something to her touch that was very unlike a regular person. Her skin was so soft, so warm, like her touch was pleasure itself. Like every pain, every worry, every consuming thought just vanished as soon as they made contact.

Junko glanced down and watched as her wound lessened and closed up before her very eyes, all the blood washing away. And a few moments later she felt completely rejuvenated like she was never injured in the first place.

“There,” the goddess said with a smile and one last lingering caress to Junko’s side. “You’re safe now.”

Junko sat up, vigorously prodding at her side. There wasn’t even a scar. “Holy shit, I can’t believe you just did that,” she breathed, receiving pleased giggles in response.

“You okay, Junko?” Mukuro asked.

“Okay? I feel like a whore with a bursting coin purse.”

“Meaning...?”

“Slightly violated but never better!”

Mukuro sighed, relief evident in her small smile. “I’m happy to hear it. Stay here for a moment and take it easy just in case. I’ll tie up the horse and find us some food.”

Junko didn’t watch Mukuro leave, unwilling to tear her gaze off the one who saved her life.

“So is this all you do?” Junko asked. “Just wait for people to find you so you can heal them?”

She nodded. “This is my place of worship. When a human needs me, I’m here for them.”

“But isn’t that hella fuckin’ lonely? That people just come here to use you?”

She glanced away. “I-I like being useful.”

“Have you ever refused to help someone? Like was someone ever a huge dickweed so you just left them to die? Please tell me you’ve done that. That would’ve been hilarious.”

“N-no, of course not! I mean, some people have been really mean to me, but I d-deserved it for not healing them fast enough.” She pressed her fingers together before hugging herself. “I-I help everyone who comes to see me, no matter w-who they are.”

A literal goddess with powers beyond comprehension let humans bully her? This just kept getting more interesting.

Junko examined her closely, observing every jitter and glance and bite of her lip. “Do you not even ask for anything in return?”

She shook her head, purple locks fluttering. “Seeing them healthy is all the thanks I need. If I heal them then they have the opportunity to visit me again.”

“And do they? Visit you again?”

Her smile fell along with her eyes. “O-only when they’re injured.”

“Well that’s shitty.” Junko hung her legs in the water, gently kicking back and forth. “So no one’s ever come here just to talk to you?”

“We aren’t m-meant to spend that much time with humans.” That was a longer and much fancier way of just saying _no_. “In fact, n-now that you’re healed, I-I should—”

“Fuck that.” A harsh swing of Junko’s leg spewed an aggressive arc of water. “Stay here and talk to me.”

“H-huh?”

“You are the least boring thing this purgatory has ever given me. I want to get to know you.” A grin bisected her face. “You having your rack out the whole time doesn’t hurt, either.”

The goddess blushed, briefly covering herself, as if only realizing now that she was naked, or that it hadn’t mattered until she knew Junko enjoyed looking.

“I... I really shouldn’t...”

Junko blinked, an epiphany coming to her. “You’d stay if I was injured, right?”

Not even thinking about it, Junko pulled out her dagger and sliced open her palm, crimson leaking down her wrist. “There!”

“Ah! W-why would you do that?” The goddess hastily reached for her hand but Junko pulled away.

“Now you _have_ to stay. You wouldn’t leave a human bleeding, would you? But the wound isn’t fatal so you can just heal it reeeeaaaally slowly while we’re talking, right?”

Glowing purple eyes peered around anxiously as if she thought someone was watching her. “I... I suppose that’s not technically breaking any rules...”

“C’mon, live a little for once in your probably infinite lifespan. Rules are important, sure, but there’s always harmless ways to bend them.” Junko winked, kicking her legs playfully again, splashing some water on the goddess’ arm. “Just stay and talk with me!”

Finally she seemed to give in, her shoulders relaxing, the creases in her brow melting away.

“O-okay. No one’s ever wanted to just talk with me before. That sounds... nice.”

“My name is Junko.” Junko held out her bleeding palm in greeting. “What’s your name?”

The goddess smiled and softly held her hand, the healing touch flooding Junko’s entire form with warmth.

“Mikan.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Kudos and comments are greatly appreciated, your support means everything to me :)


	22. Advice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mikan asks for Junko's advice about bullies. What she gets isn't what she expected, but she can work with it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Sorry for taking longer than usual to update this, my focus has been more on gaming than writing lately. Hopefully the next drabble will come out sooner!
> 
> I've also been working on a sequel to "Tomorrow is Lonely," got about 9000 words done so far, so please look forward to that too!

“Junko, c-can I ask your advice on something?”

“Sure Sugartits, what is it? Your outfit?” Ice blue eyes roamed Mikan’s body shamelessly. “It looks cute on you but would look even cuter on my floor.”

Mikan squeaked, tugging her skirt to hide a bit more of her thighs. “J-Junko!”

Junko cackled, lounging across the couch, her own skirt flipped carelessly high. “I am the epitome of romance. Don’t hesitate to throw your panties across the room.”

Mikan’s cheeks burned. “J-Junko, I’m being serious!”

“So am I!”

Mikan gave a shaky sigh, trying to settle her heartbeat. Junko always knew how to overwhelm her in about five seconds—and Mikan loved that about Junko, never a dull moment with her, but it was difficult to have serious discussions sometimes. “I didn’t want to ask about clothes. Or... or w-what you were implying.” Mikan shifted her weight back and forth, nervously rubbing her hands together. “I-I wanted to ask about bullies.”

That seemed to sober Junko a little, her expression softening. She sat up and held out her hand, blood red acrylic nails gleaming under the ceiling light like sharpened claws; a threatening weapon aimed at anyone else but for Mikan it was her reassurance, her safety, her personal shield. Mikan accepted her hand, letting Junko tug her into the adjacent seat. “Is someone bothering you?” Junko asked, eyes scavenging hers.

A calmer sigh this time, resigned. No point hiding anything. The question was irrelevant. Junko always knew.

“Someone always is,” Mikan said.

“Is it the banana bitch?”

“Banana... o-oh, you mean Hiyoko?”

“I don’t give a flying fuck what her name is.”

“It’s not Hiyoko. W-well, not right now anyway.” Mikan shrugged. “It’s a b-bunch of different people here and there.”

“Want me to arrange a homicide?”

“N-no, Junko!”

“You sure? It’d be easy and I got nothing scheduled tonight.”

“Y-you don’t need to take it that far! I just... w-wanted to ask advice for how to deal with it.”

“I just told you.”

“No, I mean...” Mikan shifted closer so their thighs were touching, stroking Junko’s thumb with her own. “I-I love that you want to help, you’re like a knight in shining armour when you come rescue me, but... I want to be able to stand up for myself. I-I need to do this on my own.”

Junko stared at her for a long time.

“So you wanna know how to get them to stop.”

“Y-yes. Nothing I’ve tried has ever worked.”

“Well what have you tried?”

“Um. B-begging? Doing them favours?”

A snort; mildly amused but not surprised. “Mikan. Bullies _want_ you to beg. It makes you look pathetic and then they’ll bully you more.”

Mikan’s shoulders hunched up. “I-I keep thinking if I’m useful to them m-maybe they won’t hurt me.”

“Fuck that shit. One, you don’t owe those dicklicks anything, two, doing that lets them know they can take advantage of you. They don’t care how you feel. Stop doing things for them, Mikan. Don’t let them put you in despair.” Junko stroked her cheek and then, softly, “They aren’t worth something so beautiful.”

Mikan bit her lip, the words and touch warming her face, “W-what do I do, then?”

Junko dug her hand under the couch cushion. “You take this,” Junko slapped a knife into Mikan’s hand, “and you stab ‘em.”

It took Mikan a second of silence to register the words and the weight in her palm, how the blade gleamed as dangerously as Junko’s nails, and then she gasped, fingers twitching. “W-what?”

“Oh, wait, that’s probably too much for you. My bad.” Junko casually tossed the knife over her shoulder, not paying any attention as it clattered on the floorboards. “Let’s find something more your style.” Junko stood and rummaged around in some drawers, producing one of Mikan’s many first aid kits she littered around their dorm—for good reason, considering how haphazardly Junko lived.

“Aha!” Junko cheered, strolling back over. “You take this,” Junko slapped a needle into Mikan’s hand, “and you stab ‘em.”

The familiar weight of her medical equipment was more pleasant than the knife but this was not the occasion to brandish a needle.

“Junko, that’s not... I’m not going to s-stab anyone!”

“Why not? I know from firsthand experience that you’re good with these.”

“It w-wouldn’t fix anything.”

“I mean it _could_ if you manage to stab all of them. How they gonna pull your hair if they can’t use their arms?”

Mikan sighed heavily, facing away from Junko’s proud little smirk. “I-I guess I’ll have to figure out something myself. Should’ve known you couldn’t give me serious advice about this.” Her gaze fell, tone going quiet. “You could never know what people like that put me through...”

“Not true!” Junko piped up, contrasting Mikan’s solemn tone. “I know a lot about bullies.”

“Because you used to be one?”

That came out harsher than she intended; anything to do with bullies was a sore spot for Mikan, and even though Junko was still intense and insensitive she used to be unforgivably vicious to others years ago. But Junko worked hard to change herself, to be better for Mikan, and Mikan had no right digging up the past. Mikan rushed to apologize but Junko was quicker to speak.

“Well, that too, but I was actually bullied when I was a kid.”

Mikan’s eyes blew wide, brow furrowing, her apology dying on her lips. “R-really? You were? B-but you’re so pretty and smart.”

Junko getting bullied was something Mikan couldn’t even fathom. How could someone look at a masterpiece like Junko, someone so gorgeous and confident and charismatic, and think they could break her spirit? Think they had any chance of appearing superior to Junko in any way?

“Yes, praise me more!” Junko’s grin was wide before shrinking a moment later. She didn’t look sad per se, but something about her expression hurt Mikan inside. “You’d be surprised how many people get bullied for those very things. But that wasn’t it. When I was younger I didn’t really... feel.”

“What do you mean?”

“Emotions in general. I didn’t understand them. Didn’t know what it was like to feel them. I got made fun of for it. People were scared of me. Said I couldn’t love, that I’d never feel love, stuff like that.”

“W-what? That’s terrible! Of course you feel love, I-I know you do. You’ve proven that to me countless times over.” Mikan pressed her face into Junko’s neck, nuzzling the sweet, warm skin with her nose. “I’m s-sorry people said things like that to you, my beloved.”

Junko shook her head, a hand rising to stroke Mikan’s hair, and Mikan melted against her. “It never really bothered me, but it made me want to understand emotions even more. Helped me learn how to analyze people as well as I do.” A dry chuckle rumbled next to Mikan’s ear. “There was one asshole that wouldn’t leave me alone, though.”

“Really? W-what did you do?”

A sinister grin made Mikan’s heart skip a beat. “I took a knife and I stabbed him.”

A part of Mikan wanted to ask what happened after. The bigger part of her knew it was better not to ask.

“I can’t...” Mikan shook her head. “I’m not going to stab anyone, Junko.”

“Damn, that would’ve been awesome. But! Don’t feel bad. The point I’m trying to make still stands.” A goofy smile stretched her lips. “Heh. Point? Stab? Get it?”

Mikan got the pun, but if there was a legit point to this story then no, Mikan didn’t get it.

“You know how your heart stopped when I pulled out the knife?” Junko asked. Mikan wasn’t surprised that Junko read her that well in that moment. “ _That’s_ my point. That’s how you gotta make your bullies feel but without holding one. You gotta make your presence alone seem like you’re holding a ten inch knife at all times. Eleven at the right angle.” She winked. “Make them never even consider bothering you again.”

“But h-how do I do that? I’m a weakling. No one would e-ever be scared of me.”

“Hmmm... here’s an idea. If any of them land in the nurse’s office for reasons maybe or maybe not related to the hottest blonde bitch on the block, make sure they know just how much you,” she curled Mikan’s fingers around the syringe in her palm and leaned over to whisper in her ear, “ _love_ giving shots.”

Mikan trembled, heat suddenly spiking in her core.

“Some people are afraid of needles,” Junko murmured, soft and hot against her skin. “Usually the nurse tries to calm them down. But if those bullies are so tough they shouldn’t need calming down, right? The nurse can just,” teeth nipped at her ear, “do whatever she wants.”

Mikan panted, images clouding her mind of being in control, looking down on all those who mocked her, of Junko’s eyes on her, admiring and salvaging her power trip. She was the boss in the nurse’s office—or she should be. Deserved to be. People should listen to her. In that room, no one was better than her; she was the smartest, the strongest, and proving that could be so easy.

Junko made it sound so easy.

The syringe slipped from Mikan’s sweaty palm, falling out of reach. Almost immediately Junko was in her lap, laying hot kisses over her neck.

“And when that nurse is tired after a long day of stabbing people’s arms, she gets to come home,” lips bestowed lingering heat under her jaw, “to the hottest blonde bitch on the block,” then at her thundering pulse, “who’ll treat her to a _special_ type of stabbing,” criminal nails scratched gently at Mikan’s parting thighs, “and make her _beg_ more than her bullies ever could.”

Junko didn’t always give the best advice. Her methods were often too extreme. Nothing they talked about today would properly solve Mikan’s bullying problem.

But Mikan was distracted from it for the rest of the night, and she walked into the nurse’s office the next morning with an eager smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! If you enjoyed and want more please let me know, comments make my day :)


	23. Homeless Thief

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mikan gasped again, sharp with realization. “Junko! He s-stole your wallet!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Every time I check the Junko x Mikan tag the number of fics actually goes DOWN instead of up and it makes me depressed. Please... I just want soft Junkan content... help me lmao

Mikan gasped as Junko froze beside her, causing her to stumble since she was holding Junko’s arm affectionately to her chest as they walked the busy downtown streets. Junko’s head snapped around and Mikan followed her gaze, seeing a dishevelled boy no older than ten standing behind them. His face and hair were littered with dirt, rags sagging off his skeletal frame. He clutched a black and white designer wallet in his tiny hands like it was a precious gem.

Mikan squinted. That wallet heavily resembled the one resting in the back pocket of Junko’s jean shorts, the one Junko pulled out not long ago to pay for their drinks and pastries on their café date, and—

Mikan gasped again, sharp with realization. “Junko! He s-stole your wallet!”

A few bystanders turned at her outburst but none moved to intervene. With a panicked look, the boy took off.

“S-stop!” Mikan called as the boy continued to run. “Junko, we have to go after him!”

Junko shook her head, looking completely calm, almost bored, and grabbed Mikan’s hand. “Nah, let’s go this way.”

“B-but—”

“I know where he’s going. Trust me.”

Mikan silently let Junko tug her in the opposite direction but her mind was buzzing, struggling to understand Junko’s thought process. How could Junko possibly know that? How was she not panicking as some kid made off with her unlimited credit cards? The wallet itself cost more than Mikan’s entire outfit.

Junko guided her through a few alleys until they finally reached a dead end around a corner, and behind a mangy fort of cardboard boxes was their panting thief.

He gasped at the sight of them, backing up against the wall and holding the wallet to his chest.

“Go away!” he shouted.

“You can’t just t-take things that aren’t yours!” Mikan said, stepping closer. “G-give her back her wallet!”

“No! It’s mine now! It’s mine!”

“It’s n-not yours!”

“I need it more!”

“That doesn’t—”

The words stilled in Mikan’s throat when Junko held out her hand, signalling her to stop. At first Mikan thought she was mad but the gentle brush against her arm proved otherwise; clearly Junko could handle this herself and just wanted Mikan to calm down. So Mikan bit her lip and obeyed, watching as Junko approached the boy and knelt down to be eye level.

“How much do you need?” Junko asked in a monotone voice.

“Huh?” The boy glanced around, seeming just as surprised by the offer as Mikan. “I... I don’t know...”

“How long have you been out here?”

“I don’t know.” His shoulders fell, making him look even smaller. “I don’t know how old I am anymore...”

That reveal made Mikan’s heart ache, feeling a pang of sympathy for the poor boy, but Junko didn’t even hesitate with her insensitive reply.

“Yikes. You’ve been out here this long and you still don’t know how to pickpocket?”

“I—”

Junko didn’t wait for him to finish, swiping her wallet back despite his protests.

“Mikan, can you believe this brat?” Junko stood, walking towards Mikan, the boy in her shadow shrivelling under her harsh tone. “He had the babyballs to steal from me when he knew I’d catch him and—whoa!”

In a moment of stunning carelessness, Junko tripped into Mikan and knocked them both to the ground. Mikan groaned, taking the brunt of the fall, then froze as she recognized Junko’s weight on top of her, blanketed by soft swells and smooth skin. Mikan blushed at Junko’s closeness, biting her lip as Junko’s cerulean eyes became lidded.

“Sorry Mikan,” Junko purred, leaning down to breathe at her ear, “sometimes your clumsiness just... rubs off on me.”

A long, hot tongue trailed the shell of her ear and Mikan shivered, squirming under Junko’s ministrations, getting more embarrassed after noticing the boy watching them with wide, curious eyes.

Then, just as quickly as it started, Junko stopped her teasing and stood up, dusting herself off, leaving Mikan a flustered mess on the ground.

“See?” Junko said to the boy, a manicured hand on her cocked hip. “ _That’s_ how you do it.”

“D-do what?” he asked.

Mikan was just as curious, tilting her head as Junko smirked and held up a pink wallet that looked pretty similar to her own.

Then Mikan’s eyes widened, hands flying to her pockets to find her wallet missing. How did Junko do that? Mikan didn’t notice at all. Is that why Junko tripped on her? Mikan thought it was suspicious, Junko was too graceful for such a mistake, but she was so focussed on Junko’s warmth and closeness that any concerns for Junko’s sudden lack of poise went out the window, as did any awareness of Junko’s wandering hands.

“You gotta distract them with something else,” Junko clarified, tossing the wallet up and catching it again. “They shouldn’t notice their wallet is missing until you’re long gone.”

Junko threw Mikan her wallet. Mikan tried to catch it but missed, the wallet bouncing off her chest, summoning a chuckle from Junko that only increased the burning in her cheeks.

“I... I don’t know how to do that,” the boy said, all mousy whimpers now, his veil of stubbornness torn away by Junko’s analytical prowess.

“Obviously, that’s why I caught your dumb ass. But you gotta learn otherwise someone even worse and definitely less hot than me is gonna follow you back here. You don’t want that, right?”

He shook his head.

“Good. C’mon then. Give it everything you got.”

They followed the sounds of city life to the entrance of the alley, eyeing the people of the busy street. Junko waved her arm in an arc, as if presenting all those people as a tribute.

“You pick your target, cause a distraction, and slip away. People will think less of you ‘cause you’re a kid. Use that to your advantage.” Junko shoved him into the street. “Now go fuck ‘em up.”

He looked scared at first, but determined. Mikan watched as the kid bumped into a well-dressed lady and pretended he injured himself, and while the lady cared for him he nabbed her wallet. He risked one glance back at Junko, looking so proud of his accomplishment, then hid in the shifting crowd, soon vanishing from sight.

“ _Finally_ ,” Junko sighed, as if the whole thing had been annoying despite how much fun she clearly had. “Now we can get back to our date.”

Mikan wanted that too, but the questions swirling in her mind needed answering first.

“H-how did you know he would come here?”

“‘Cause it’s the best spot around. Spacious to set up tents or blankets, fences hard to climb on the outside but easily climbable here with a box if you gotta escape, and far enough away from the noisy ass streets that you might even catch a wink or two.”

Mikan would have been impressed with this knowledge if not for their implications.

“Junko... how do you know this?”

“I know everything.”

“The p-pickpocketing, too? You were so good at it.”

“I’m also _good_ at everything.”

“I-I know, but it was like you’ve done it a lot. Like it wasn’t j-just a hobby.”

“Haven’t caught on by now? You’re so naive sometimes it’s despairing.” Junko leaned against the alley wall, pristine amongst the grime and clutter yet she looked so comfortable, like she believed she blended right in. “I used to be homeless, Mikan.”

“... Huh?”

“Yeah, before high school.”

It was said so nonchalantly that it didn’t feel real.

“Is this another one of your b-bad jokes?”

Junko snorted. “One, every joke out of my mouth is a killer, and two, no I’m not twisting your basic bitch panties. I did what I had to in order to survive. I learned how to analyze people, how to beg, how to steal, how to fight. It’s all second nature now.”

Mikan didn’t like picturing that. Visualizing her beloved trapped on the streets, barely surviving, dirty and cold and hungry, under the mercy of others... she hated it. Junko was so strong, so amazing, so brilliant; the thought of privileged people throwing her pitying glances or walking by without helping, without recognizing and acknowledging Junko’s potential, her greatness, made Mikan’s blood boil.

“I’m... I’m sorry.”

Junko didn’t seem bothered though, shrugging as if such a misfortunate past was no big deal. “There’s a certain despair to that type of life I never would’ve experienced otherwise. Can’t say I regret what led me there. Not everyone can handle living that way though. I thrived off the despair, became stronger because of it, but most people aren’t fucked up like me. If he’s lucky, that boy won’t become fucked up like me. ”

Mikan wanted to argue, she didn’t like hearing Junko talk about herself like that, but she knew Junko would just shut her down. Junko probably expected her rebuttal and already conjured thousands of ways to refute.

So Mikan aimed from a different angle; at a detail easier to shoot through.

“S-so you helped that boy because you know what it’s like l-living like this?”

“Helped him?” Junko snorted. “Please. I just showed him how to cause despair. That lady’s gonna lose her shit later. In fact we should follow her so I can—”

“Junko, you _did_ help him. Y-you don’t need to p-pretend like you didn’t.”

Junko scoffed. “If I wanted to help him I would’ve just given him some money. I didn’t let him take shit from me. He can go starve for all I care.”

“But you t-taught him something. Showed him a way to survive out here.” Mikan stepped close, hugging her, burying her face in Junko’s neck. “Showed more of yourself to me.”

Junko stiffened under her touch but Mikan didn’t back away, instead pressing even closer, nuzzling her warm skin and inhaling her sweet perfume. She knew Junko still struggled with being vulnerable, with processing and accepting certain emotions, but Mikan was patient, content to just be near her as Junko worked out her feelings.

“... No need to get all sappy,” Junko mumbled. She sounded annoyed but Mikan knew from the way Junko pressed her face into her hair that she was just embarrassed. Junko could be so adorable sometimes and only she ever got to see her like this.

“I’m s-sorry you once had to live like this, my beloved.” Mikan held her tighter, brow furrowing. “Honestly I... I can’t picture it.”

“Hard to picture a god in ruins, I know.”

There was that familiar, playful tone. Should’ve known Junko would recover quickly.

“C-can you tell me about it?”

“Sure.” Junko held up Mikan’s wallet again and winked. “As soon as you catch me.”

Junko kissed her cheek and ran off, cackling wildly, leaving a baffled Mikan in her wake.

Each day was an adventure with Junko. Each day Mikan learned something new about her. Each day Junko stole a little more of her heart.

Mikan, laughing just as loudly, chased her thief home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading, as always! If you enjoyed please let me know :)


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